In Times of War
by AccioBook7
Summary: SSHG. HbP compliant. Set after Hermione turns 18. The war is still going on, and she has to do her part, with a little help from a certain potion's master.Warning: Huge HbP spoilers. Some graphic violence and sexual content. Reader Discretion Advised.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. If I was, I would have much nicer clothes. I do not own any of these characters, I am simply borrowing them in order to fulfill my warped, SHIP-based needs. Enjoy.

Author's Note:

I plan to update this story on, at a minimum, a weekly basis. So far I have written up through chapter thirteen, but will be posting five chapters behind, as it helps to be able to go back and change certain events as needed. I would like to thank my many readers on the other site at which this story is published. If it were not for all of you, I would never have had the guts to start posting this on Fan Fiction, and, without your constant glowing reviews, I would have no reason at all to continue writing. All of my readers are an immense inspiration to me. I dedicate this entire story to them. And, now, on with the show:

**Prologue**

The air was rough and haughty, making it difficult for her to breathe. Sweat was beading down her forehead in the sweltering August heat. This was it. This was what she had trained for all those nights with the others. She let out a hollow chuckle under her breath. 'Dumbledore's Army', they had called it. They trained for almost an entire year with Harry as their instructor. _'Harry…'_

If ever there was a braver soul than Harry Potter's, she had never known it. Six times he had faced Lord Voldemort, each instance narrowly escaping death. _'What a crime that someone so young should grow up so fast…'_

In the end, it had seemingly been for nothing. After years of guarding Harry in every way that he thought feasible, Albus Dumbledore, Harry's protector, had been killed. No, not killed. He was murdered.

A hot tear streaked down her right cheek at the thought of her former Headmaster. _'What a waste.' _Shortly after Dumbledore's death, Harry was sent away to train with Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Training, she assumed, for a final battle with Lord Voldemort. Even now, just the thought of that... _thing_… running through her mind was enough to send shivers up her spine. Somehow, even on a night as hot as this one, his name alone produced goose bumps on her arms.

Harry had been away for a full 3 months before she was finally able to see him again. He didn't look at all like she remembered him. He looked tired. Weak. Broken…

Three months of training for a battle in which he would ultimately be killed or be forced to commit murder, had obviously taken its toll on him. Still, he rose to the occasion. He explained to her that he had trained day in and day out for an entire quarter of a year. _'He's already done so much… how can we expect him to risk his life for us, yet again?' _

But they did. And he was.

Now, as she stood next to Harry on what could be the last day of her existence in this universe, she was afraid. Afraid, not for herself, but for him, and for their friends. What should happen to the world if Harry Potter fails this task? If Lord Voldemort triumphs, and he is allowed to reign over the wizarding universe unhindered, and unopposed? The possibility, she recognized, was too horrible to think about.

She felt a warm, strong hand, cupping her own. He whispered something in her direction that was inaudible in the breeze. He wanted her to look at him, but she could not bring herself to meet his gaze. Not with doubt in her eyes. Not crying. Not like this…

She hoped that he would forget whatever he was apparently trying to tell her. She was too weak to listen to encouraging sentiments of hope right now, and too doubtful to offer such words to him. Her hopes, however, were unappeased.

Her palm felt a second squeeze from his balmy hand, this one firmer and longer than the one before. Evidently he felt that whatever he had to say was necessary for her to know. She hesitated, trying to regain her composure before returning his gaze.

"Hermione," came the soft, gentle voice that she had heard oh-so-many times over the course of the last seven years. "Hermione, look at me."

She tilted her head to her right, causing a few stray, curly hairs to graze her open eyes. She smoothed them aside in order to see her converser clearly. _'So much pain in those eyes…' _

"Hermione," he whispered. "Listen to me carefully. Things are not as they seem. When this is over, we will prevail. We are going to win, Hermione, but it will be, and has been, at a terrible price."

She could do nothing but nod her head silently at his words. She dropped her gaze to his lips… those eyes were just too hard to look at… not now, not at a time like this.

"Hermione look at me!" he declared in an urgent whisper.

Startled, she raised her eyes to meet his. She was bemused. He did not look afraid, or timid, or sad. He looked, if it was possible, excited. Anxious, would describe his appearance well.

He opened his mouth ever-so-slighty and whispered to her yet again. "Hermione, things are not as they seem. Remember that after tonight is over. Promise me."

She was confused. _'Things are not as they seem? What is he talking about?' _

A dawning realization overcame her. He wouldn't… no, he definitely would not. But, then again, he had been gone for three months. Surely he would have been filled in on any precarious changes in the plans…

Fear filled her heart as she imagined what he might be alluding to. That was it. He was going to sacrifice himself for the good of the Order of the Phoenix. A burning sensation filled her heart as the sudden postulation emerged in her mind. She opened her mouth in preparation of countering his statement. He was crazy. This was madness. They needed him to live. _She _needed him to live.

As the breath filled her throat whilst the words made their way to the tip of her tongue, she felt a lone finger approach her lips.

"Shhh," he warned. "I'm not going to do that, Hermione. I will live, and so will you."

A powerful bewilderment manifested itself in her eyes. She hadn't said anything about him dying, not out loud, at least. She stared hard into his eyes and suddenly felt a minute pressure at the back of her retinas. His mouth remained closed, but she was able to hear his words none the less.

'Hermione…'

It was his word, his voice, somehow reaching her ears from inside of her mind. She now realized what was happening. He had, in the end, managed to learn Legillimency.

'Yes, I have.' She heard him wordlessly say. 'Everything will be alright Hermione. Things are not as they seem. Remember that. Promise me.'

She projected her thoughts powerfully back towards him. 'Harry, I don't understand, what do you mean?'

No sooner had she propelled her thoughts to him than she was answered once again in her own mind.

'Never mind that. I will explain everything to you when this is all over. Things are not as they seem, Hermione. Promise me.'

She stared at him for a moment longer before answering. 'Harry, I-'

'PROMISE ME!' He literally screamed into her mind.

She was at a loss for words. There was, seemingly, no point in arguing with him. 'I promise,' she meditated, just as his gaze broke free from her own.

She would have pondered the past few moments' events in great detail if she hadn't been abruptly pulled out of her reverie by sudden wave of fright.

A high, malevolent voice filled the air. It was distant at first, making it impossible for her to make out the words that the voice was so painfully attempting to utter. The voice, conversely, was not lost for long. A second wave of words fell dully on the air. This time, she recognized, she was able to understand them.

"You dare to challenge the Dark Lord with such a small entourage? You are groundless, Harry Potter. Groundless, and a fool!"

That voice, Hermione discerned, was unfamiliar to her. She knew, on the other hand, that it would not be foreign to Harry.

She chanced a fleeting look in Harry's direction. His face held a hardened, stone look upon it. His eyes were narrowed as if in anger, but, somehow, they were undisturbed. A look of determination encased his being. He appeared utterly fearless in the mounting moonlight.

Voldemort ceased speaking, ostensibly awaiting an answer from the boy who had already defied him on six occasions throughout his past. When no such answer came, he spoke for a second time.

"It is over, Potter. Subsequent to this evening, _The Boy Who Lived_, will become _The Boy Who Did Not_."

A heavy silence fell over the field in which the opposing armies stood. Facing one another, one faction exposed to the world, one hidden behind masks and robes of disguise, they waited.

What they were waiting for, Hermione was unaware of. All she knew was that once Harry gave the order to fight, that was exactly what she would do.

As if reading her mind (which, very well, could have been the case), he gave the command.

"NOW!" he shouted, as he charged forward into the enemy's vicinity. Immediately, faithfully, the rest of them followed.

Hermione was thrust back into reality by Harry's call. Instantly, her survival instincts took over. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she ran towards her enemy, wand held steadily upright in front of her, even with the center of her breastbone. A fury of spells erupted around her as she heard herself screaming various hexes at the Death Eaters that were gradually surrounding her. "Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Impedimenta!"

She leapt out of the way just as a cruciatus curse flew by her left shoulder. The battle raged on for what she felt must have been hours. In reality, she knew it could only have been minutes. Exhaustion was overcoming her at an alarming rate. They were tiring quickly- and they were losing. Panic engulfed her as she fought for what she now believed would be the last minutes of her life. Just as she felt her courage start to waver, she felt a hand tugging at her elbow. Ron was dragging her into the forest up ahead, shooting stupefy curses from his wand at anyone around them. When they reached the edge of the clearing, they stopped.

She doubled over, hands placed firmly on her knees as if searching the ground for a mislaid object. She gasped for air, attempting to catch her breath before discussing with him their next move. When she looked up at his face, she was horrified. Ron was hurt.

"Ron! What happened to you?"

The injuries were ghastly. Ron had sustained a deep slice to the right side of his face, starting at his temple and concluding just under his chin at the jaw bone. His left eye was bloody and swollen. Where the top of his right ear should have been there was only an empty crevice, patterned lightly with freshly dried blood.

"Oh, Ronald…" she sighed, emptiness trailing in her voice.

The two looked out over the battle as a deafening cry of "Avada Kedavra" reached their ears. Hermione's heart sank as she spotted what appeared to be the limp form of Alaster Moody fall to the ground. _'So much devastation… So much death. And for what?' _

She was shaken back to reality at the sound of Ron's desperate voice.

"Hermione, we have to leave. We have to get out of here! We have to run!" he screamed. And run they did.

It was a plethora of twigs and branches scratching against the already raw skin on her face and arms as she ran through the thickly gathered brush. Pain struck her right eye as she took a sharp branch to the cornea. Weary and, now, half-blind, she pushed on with as much speed as she could muster until she reached a clearing at the end of the wood. _'If I can just get far enough away to apparate…'_

The thought barely crossed the edge of her mind before she was struck hard in the fissure of her lower back. Simultaneously she heard a woman's voice command "Crucio!" as she fell, writhing, to the damp, slippery earth. An excruciating pain coursed throughout her limbs. The feeling of a hundred serrated knives against her flesh and muscle tore through her to the very center of her bones. A high-pitched cackle met her ears through a haze of sights and sounds encircling her. It was agonizing… unbearable. She could not take the pain any longer. _'Kill me…'_

As abruptly as the pain had come, it stopped. Her body shook fiercely as her nerves attempted to regain control of her writhing extremities. She sensed someone approach her from behind, but was unable to react. This was it. This was the end. As Bellatrix Lestrange advanced towards her, she surrendered to the inevitable fact that she was going to die.

She shut her eyes tightly, allowing one hot, painful tear to escape her injured eye and streak down her cheek. Just as the salty taste of her tears reached the corner of her mouth, she sighed the words _"Forgive me, Harry."_

She was ready. It was all over. She felt Bellatrix's presence to her rear and saw a moonlit shadow on the ground, mirroring the woman's wand being raised outwardly towards her own still-shaking body. The same high-pitched voice met her ears in a cold, even tone, completely devoid of emotion.

"Avada Ked-"

The fourth syllable was as far as the witch was able to get. At that precise moment, Hermione felt an invisible arm wrap around her waist and pull her in tightly. Suddenly she was being pulled into a cyclone… She felt a sharp, outward tug on her navel as if someone was trying to summon her about the waist from across a room. Dizziness soon consumed the inner workings of her mind. She felt nauseous, insecure, and, yet, safe all at once. A falling sensation overtook her. She was reminded of her third year at Hogwarts, constantly drowsy from the time-turner she used as her study aid, when she would drift into an unsteady and barely-detectable sleep during classes. It was then that she had experienced the same unnatural feeling that she felt now. She felt that she was falling, deep into a chasm, only to realize that it was a desperate ploy of her mind trying to summon her back into reality.

Gradually, the dizziness subsided. She imagined she heard someone calling to her- a distant, ghostly voice. The spinning had stopped completely now but the falling sensation had marginally increased. She had apparated. Someone, although she was completely unaware of whom they might be, had rescued her. With an immense thump she felt her head smack against the cold, hard ground, and then- darkness.


	2. Chapter One: The Awakening

Author's Notes:

Huge hugs and sticky kisses to my beta, Soul Bound, for once again sorting out the mess I've made of this story's grammar and sentence structure.

"She's yet to rouse, My Lord," said a smooth, even voice from somewhere outside the room.

In retort, a high, calculating voice spoke next. "It has been far too long, Severus. The girl possesses knowledge that may prove useful, but it is not essential to our cause. I will allow you one more week, Severus. If she is not revived by then, dispose of her."

The first voice spoke once more. "Yes, My Lord."

Hermione winced at the conversation taking place just outside of where she was lying. She remembered nothing of how she had come to be where she was. '_As a matter of fact, where am I?_'

She shut her eyes tightly as the door to her right creaked open. She could see a bright light streaming into the room through her thinly layered eyelids. She lay still, feigning sleep. The door shut quietly with a click, followed by the swishing sound of a deadbolt being driven into place. Hurried footsteps became louder as they made their way towards her bed.

"Miss Granger, wake up. Do not make a sound."

She knew that voice. It was the voice of her former Potions professor, the man who had abandoned the Order, the man who had killed Dumbledore. The voice speaking to her was none other than Severus Snape.

Fearing what he would do to her should he find her awake, she lay still, pretending she had not heard a word.

"Miss Granger, I know you are awake. I gave you a reviving potion this morning. The timing is precise. Open your eyes."

Again, she tried fruitlessly to pretend she had not heard him.

"Miss Granger!" he whispered urgently. "I am not here to harm you. However, if you do not open your eyes and listen to me this instant, the Dark Lord _will_ kill you!"

Something about the worried tone in his voice caused her to believe him, and she opened her eyes.

"What," she began, but she was halted before she could say anything further. His hand flung forcefully to her face, covering her mouth completely. She could taste the dirt and sweat that had accumulated on his palm as he placed a mild, yet constant pressure on her lips.

"Ssshhh!" he warned. "Do not speak. If the Dark Lord discovers you are awake, you will not be safe. You are to serve a purpose, Miss Granger. When he is finished with you, he will discard you."

Her eyes shone meaningfully with the unspeakable realization that came with her former professor's words. As if sensing her alarm, he continued.

"Yes, Miss Granger. By that, I mean he will undoubtedly kill you. You are no more valuable to the Dark Lord alive than you are dead."

Her eyes grew wide with fear. Panic coursed through her, and she began to perspire above her brow. Snape's hand felt clammy and warm about her lips. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of the appendage on her face, she felt relieved he had decided to keep it there. She had an uncanny desire to scream.

He continued, "The Dark Lord has granted me permission to remove you from his lair. You will come with me to another location. Once there, I will inform you further."

He reached dolefully into his robes with his free hand and pulled out a small, clear vial filled with orange liquid. "Drink this," he instructed. She shook her head violently in protest.

He forced his hand roughly down onto her face, pressing her head hard onto the pillow-less mattress that was her foundation. A muffled squeal escaped through her nostrils as she recoiled from the pain building at the base of her skull caused by the exposed springs in the mattress.

"Foolish girl!" he uttered through clenched teeth. "I have already told you once that it is not my intent to harm you! Drink this potion, or you _will_ die at the hands of the Dark Lord!"

He slowly removed his palm from her lips and moved it to the vial still being held in his left hand. He offered it to her, and hesitantly, she brought the solution to her lips and drank. A cool sensation ran down her throat as she consumed the mysterious liquid. Instantly, she fell into a slumber once more.

She awoke hours later in a daze. The room surrounding her was not the same one in which she had first roused. The walls were draped in a deep, hunter green. The floor was a rich mahogany color─probably hard wood. As she attempted to process her surroundings, she realized that she was no longer in a bed at all. She looked down to find herself on a gray, musty smelling couch. There were tears in one of the arms and rips in the fabric behind the cushions.

She attempted to stand and faltered. She fell forcefully onto her backside, her body falling dully onto the seat cushions behind her. She was far too weak to walk. She managed to sit upright in her seat while her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. A smooth, deep voice sounded from somewhere to her left. She whipped her head towards the sound and, as she did, realized that she had a terrible headache along with a lovely stiff neck.

She opened her eyes wide and frowned at the figure standing before her. The man, in his solid black robes that hung loosely around his Victorian-style black collar, was obviously Professor Snape. He glared down at her as he approached the area where she was sitting.

"Do not speak, Miss Granger," he stated smoothly. "I shall explain everything," he paused, "that you need to know."

He took a seat next to her on the sofa, folding his hands loosely in his lap and catching her gaze.

"Miss Granger," he began, "for the past thirteen months─"

"Thirteen months!" she exclaimed in utter horror.

"Miss Granger! I have instructed you _not to speak_. You would do well to heed my instructions and listen to the information that I am about to bestow upon you. Now, as I was saying..." He glared down at her through narrowed eyes over his unusually large nose. "You have been kept at the Dark Lord's lair under the pretense that you are, essentially, a prisoner of war. The Dark Lord believes you to have information pertaining to the Order of the Phoenix that, without you, would go undiscovered. As you have been unconscious for the duration of your time in captivity, the Dark Lord has been unable to use Legilimency in order to extract said information from your mind. Naturally, I know there to be nothing in that mind of yours."

The cheek in his comment did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

He took a deep breath before concluding his monologue. "Miss Granger, do you remember anything at all from your night on the battlefield?"

Hermione considered his question for a moment. "Yes," she began. "I remember fighting the Death Eaters and running into the forest with Ron.─ Then I remember...­─ I...─­ I..." She attempted to choke back her tears as the remembrance of her painful torture by means of the Cruciatus Curse flowed back into her mind. A heavy ball had formed in the center of her throat, making it hard for her to swallow. "I was hit with the C-Cruciatus C-Curse. It was Bellatrix L-Lestrange."

The realization that she had almost been killed suddenly dawned on her. Tears fell rapidly from her cheeks now, forming clear, white streaks in her dirt-encrusted skin. "She made to kill me. She started to say Ava─the Killing Curse. And then, someone rescued me. At least, I thought they had."

Snape paused for a moment, apparently collecting his thoughts. "Yes, you are correct, Miss Granger. When I saw what Bellatrix meant to do, I grabbed you and Disapparated us out of the forest. Unfortunately, Bellatrix informed the Dark Lord of what had happened. He found us before I could Apparate you to a safe location. I convinced the Dark Lord that you retained valuable information regarding the Order and informed him that I felt it would be," he paused, "wise to keep you."

Hermione lowered her eyes and feigned interest in a spot on the floor. "Was I hurt?" she whispered, her gaze unfaltering.

"No, Miss Granger, you were not touched while in the Dark Lord's custody," Snape stated with an air of certainty. "I, personally, took the responsibility of ensuring your health and safety while you were incapacitated."

She spoke again, this time in a slightly deeper voice. "Then how was I unconscious for over a year?" Upon ending this question, she raised her eyes to meet those of the man sitting before her.

He answered her quickly, his voice somewhat more appeasing now. "As I was unable to successfully extract you from your secure location, I have been feeding you a mildly diluted form of the Draught of Living Death. You received one vial per month in order to keep you in a severely subdued state. The Dark Lord was under the impression that you were in what Muggles would call a '_comatose condition_.' You have been fed a nourishing potion twice per day for the last thirteen months, allowing you to maintain your health to the farthest extent possible. I convinced the Dark Lord that, in time, I would be able to revive you from your cataleptic state, allowing him to discover your memories through Legilimency. Thankfully, he agreed."

As she pondered his words, a fresh batch of questions formed in her mind. "Why did you rouse me? Why now? Why not sooner?" she asked in three short breaths.

"You were not roused earlier, Miss Granger, because the Dark Lord would simply have tossed you aside once your knowledge, or lack thereof, was extracted. Rescue efforts would have been futile. The Dark Lord's lair is unplottable, and its location is held by a Secret Keeper, the Dark Lord himself. Recently, the Dark Lord has grown tired of waiting. He has given me one week to rouse you from your faux sleep and has agreed to let me bring you to my home in hopes that I will be able to completely devote myself to your speedy recovery. That is why you are here."

She glanced around the room that surrounded her, subsequently returning her gaze to Snape. "This─this is your house?"

He sneered coldly at her before answering her question in a loud, irritated voice. "Yes, Miss Granger, this is my home. I realize that it may not be quite as lovely as the Muggle accommodations to which you are accustomed, but it serves its purpose while I am here."

Hermione suddenly felt embarrassed by her previous statement. "I didn't mean─"

"That is not important," he interrupted sharply. "We should be discussing the progress of the Order over the past year and deciding on a future course of action."

"Yes," she replied softly.

He stared intently into her eyes, his expression unfaltering. "Would you like some tea, Miss Granger?"

A miniscule smirk appeared at the right side of her mouth at the mention of tea. She was incredibly thirsty. "Yes, please, Professor."

Snape rose from the ancient sofa, walking in long, smooth strides to the opposite side of the room. He entered what she imagined to be the kitchen through a two-way, swinging oak door and disappeared from her sight. He reappeared moments later balancing a tray on his left palm, which contained a plain, copper teakettle and two white china teacups. As he approached the sofa, he raised his wand with his right hand and muttered "_Inanimatus Conjurus_" in the quietest voice possible. A small, oak coffee table magically appeared before the sofa. Snape settled the tray on the stand and proceeded to pour the steaming beverage into the two waiting cups. After placing the kettle down onto the tray, he reclaimed his seat on the couch next to his female guest.

As they met each other's gazes once more, Snape spoke again. "I suppose, Miss Granger, I should allow you to ask some questions of me."

She sat, pondering her words for a moment before responding. "Professor, what about Harry, and Ronald, and, well, everyone else?"

Snape's glare did not weaken. "There were certain... casualties of war, Miss Granger. In spite of this, those comrades that you no doubt care for most were unharmed. Potter and Weasley remain intact. They are being concealed at the new location of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Several additional battles have ensued since your capture. During these battles, we lost many valuable Order members. Among them, Alastor Moody, Elphias Doge, Sturgis Podmore and Bill Weasley."

At the mention of Bill's name, tears sprung back into her eyes. No, he's not─he can't be!" she squeaked, fervor leaving her voice completely.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I am afraid so. He was a talented wizard. His death was a terrible loss for the Order."

Her mind moved quickly to Molly Weasley, sympathy for the woman's loss engulfing her heart. She pictured the mourning woman sulking sorrowfully around the Order's headquarters, desperation encasing her being at the void left in her heart from the loss of her eldest son's life.

She leveled her eyes with Snape's and questioned him with a tone of assertiveness and determination. "What do we do now?"

"Now," he replied, "I will make contact with the Order of the Phoenix. The Head of the Order will need to know that you have been extracted safely."

"Dumbledore?" she questioned, mostly to the empty space in front of her. She swung her head around to face Snape once more. "Dumbledore? He's alive, then? But, how?"

Snape gave her a puzzled look. Her heart sank as she realized she must have misunderstood.

"No, Miss Granger.­ Professor Dumbledore is, I am sorry to say, no longer among the living." An unmistakably regretful Snape lowered his gaze to his lap. His brow furrowed, and his eyes fell as a hollow sigh escaped his lips.

After a period of uninterrupted silence, Hermione chose to continue the conversation. "Professor," she said, then paused for a moment, contemplating her next words. "You didn't want to kill Professor Dumbledore, did you? I mean, the Order─they would not still be in contact with you if it was your fault, right?" The sentence ended more as a statement than a question, sounding wholly rhetorical.

Snape sat in silence for several more seconds before answering her. "Miss Granger, there are some actions that must be taken during times of great turmoil, times of war, that we can neither be proud of, nor remorseful for. Some day you will be informed of everything that took place during the time of what we are now calling the Second War. Now is not the time for you to be enlightened with that information."

Understanding him perfectly, she continued her questioning. "Who is the new Head of the Order, sir?"

"Minerva McGonagall has taken over organizational duties for the Order of the Phoenix." He paused, taking a sip from his teacup before placing it softly back onto its saucer and continuing. "She is aware that you are alive and well, but that is all. My communication with the Order is quite sparse. As of yet, I have only attended three Order meetings since the first battle. My loyalties must continue to go undiscovered by the other side. It is imperative to our cause."

She took in all of the information carefully. Snape was still in the Order. He regretted Dumbledore's death. The Order of the Phoenix did not know where she was. She had been unconscious for the past thirteen months. She could still die in a week's time─  
­  
It was all too much for her. She felt her breaths growing shallow and her fingers beginning to shake. Her big toe, balancing itself on the bare wooden floor beneath her, bounced up and down whilst she tried to calm her steadily worsening nerves.

Snape looked up at her, mystified. He flung his left arm over her shoulders as she began to hyperventilate. "Breathe, Miss Granger!" he urged her as he forced her shoulders downward, causing her to place her head between her knees as she attempted to restrain her tattered breathing. "Count backwards from one hundred, Miss Granger," he instructed calmly.

'Ninety-nine, ninety-eight,­ ninety-seven─' As she approached eighty-three, her panting stopped, and color returned to her cheeks. She sat upright once more and brushed the sweaty, matted hair away from her forehead.

She brought her gaze upwards to meet that of Snape's. She thought she noticed a hint of compassion in the man's eyes. However, if it was even there to begin with, it quickly dissipated. The indifferent, sneering glare that was Snape's signature look was staring back at her in full force.

"I shall assume," he droned, "Miss Granger, that that was the last of your nervous breakdowns for the evening? Or shall I fetch you a paper bag and a calming potion?"

"I'm fine, sir," she added tersely.

His right brow rose in a high arc as he stared at her over his pointed nose. "Very well," he said flatly.

The two continued to converse for over an hour. Snape informed Hermione that three additional battles had taken place following the one that she had attended. The most recent battle, which had taken place at the former sight of the Quidditch World Cup, was the one that had claimed the eldest Weasley's life. According to Snape, Harry had "performed adequately" in all four of the Second War's battles. Knowing Snape's dislike of Harry, Hermione assumed this to mean that Harry had fought brilliantly. It also appeared that the Death Eaters had greatly decreased in number. Unfortunately, the most essential and capable Death Eaters were still alive and quite active with the Dark Lord's biddings. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange had taken over management duties for the remaining Death Eater troops. Between them they were able to devise new and powerful curses to use to their advantage. One of which, the Indigo Curse, caused someone to lose all feeling in their upper and lower extremities. The paralyzed sensation was enough to immobilize an enemy for an extended period of time. Unfortunately, the Order was still yet to discover a counter-curse.

As their conversation began to dwindle, Snape stood slowly and lifted his wand with his right arm. He pointed it to the space in front of them and muttered "_Evanesco_." Instantly, the coffee table, along with the tray, teakettle, and cups, disappeared.

"Miss Granger, you need to rest. I have prepared a room for you upstairs. You will climb the stairway and turn to the third door on the right. If you require use of the facilities, the washroom is located across from your quarters. After you have retired for the evening, I will lock your door as a precaution."

She gave a weak nod signifying that she understood and rose up off of the sofa, heading in the direction of the stairwell. As she placed her left shoe on the initial stair, she turned around and faced her professor once more. "Thank you, Professor," she stated in a hushed, yet audible voice. Snape, without speaking, gave an acknowledging nod in response.

Hermione climbed the staircase to the second floor, taking in her surroundings as she ascended. The mahogany railing on the right side of the stairs was unattached, simply floating in hollow air inches away from the wall. She placed a hand on it and noticed that it was as sturdy as she would have expected it to be if it were held in place with one-inch bolts. The engraving on the railing began above the first step and appeared to run the entire length of the woodwork. The etching was that of a long, slender serpent. The body was straight in some areas, gradually building into waves and, at points, circular coils. As she leaned closer to the railing, she noticed that the impression appeared to be moving in an almost unnoticeable slither. 

In any other household, the overwhelming amount of Slytherin-styled paraphernalia would have been greatly unsettling. In Snape's house, she reflected, the atmosphere mirrored his personality perfectly.

She reached the top of the stairwell and turned down the hallway to her right. She stopped short of the door leading to "_her quarters_," as Snape had referred to them, and opted to visit the bathroom first. She opened the tall, oak door that separated the washroom from the hallway and entered, flipping on the light switch as she walked. Her mouth dropped promptly in surprise. The room was _incredible_.

In contrast to the rest of the home, the bathroom was, in no way whatsoever, Syltherin. The room itself was massive in size. She imagined it to be at least twice as big as her bedroom at her parents' Muggle home. The walls were a bright, golden yellow, and the floors were tiled with what appeared to be marble─white and bronze in color. There was a double sink against the left wall with swan-shaped faucets dangling over each basin. The sink handles were twisted in a helix shape and matched the faucets' shiny, golden appearance. There was a bathtub in the center of the room that sunk into the tile floor. The tub, she mused, was definitely large enough for two people. She stood in the doorway a moment, admiring the beautifully un-Snape-ish facilities.

Eventually, she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. After all she had just been through, she felt that a long, hot bath was certainly in order. She approached the bathtub first and turned on the hot water. After placing the stopper in the drain and making sure that the water was of an adequate temperature, she turned to her left and made for the sink. She looked at her reflection in the mirror for a short moment before immediately regretting the decision. Her hair was, in a word, unruly... not the usual array of frizzy, mustered curls that she was used to, but generally and intensely disheveled. After over a year of not being brushed, her hair had grown a considerable amount in length. Without a comb to tame it, her hair had become riddled with knots that had entwined themselves in her thick layers of twisted strands. Her face was caked with dirt and grime, causing her skin to appear brown and wrinkled. She raised a hand to her cheek in an attempt to wipe away the dirt beneath her eyes, and she noticed that her fingernails had grown exponentially.

"That's easy enough to fix," she reflected as she took up her wand from beneath her robes.

"_Manico_," she said clearly while pointing her wand at her left hand. At once her nails reduced themselves to a short, manicured condition. She repeated the incantation once more, holding her wand in her left hand, performing the spell on her right. Not hesitating to look away from the mirror, she opened the cabinet beneath the master sink in hopes of finding some body wash and shampoo. She was sorely disappointed.

Beneath the master sink stood a large number of bottles, though not one of them contained a label. Knowing Snape's unusual obsession for strange and dangerous potions, she decided to continue her search elsewhere. Her exploration of the second set of cabinets was much more rewarding. There was a large basket of assorted guest soaps and shampoos. It appeared that none of the soaps or shampoos had ever been opened. Clearly, Snape did not entertain company very often.

Sinking into a tranquil bath, she let her mind wander peacefully. After several moments of uninterrupted relaxation, she slipped into a shallow, restful sleep.

_She and Ginny were sitting on an old, worn-out, wooden bench slid partially under a shabby picnic table. The weather around the Burrow was unusually warm for the time of year. Although the leaves had long since turned a mixed shade of red, yellow, and brown, the bright sun felt sweltering on her exposed shoulders. All in all it was a perfect day for a Quidditch game, she mused. She lifted her chin to the sky, using her left hand as a visor to shield her eyes from the blinding afternoon sunlight. Ron was floating around his goal hoops while keeping a keen eye on Fred and George, who viciously insisted on using real Bludgers in place of the oft-used rubber ones. Harry was hovering high above the others, sneaking glances at the players below him while cautiously looking for the sought after Snitch._

She laughed as Ron was knocked to the rear of his broomstick by a stray Quaffle, accusing George of hitting him on purpose. She noticed that Ginny was staring avidly up at the sky, eyes fixed on Harry, with a blissful look on her face. 'Those two were clearly meant for one another─that much is obvious,' she thought to herself.

As she reached for the pitcher of lemonade that sat in the center of the table, she saw Harry break into a rapid dive for the Snitch. The airborne, golden golf ball made straight for her face and rested itself on the tip of her nose. She felt her eyes dry out as the breeze from the rapidly flapping, miniature wings hit her face. Harry was still descending. He was getting closer, but not slowing down. He was coming at her too fast.─­They were going to collide! She was frozen in her seat, unable to move. He reached his hand out to grab the Snitch─

"Miss Granger!"

She was yanked from her dream by the sound of Snape's voice slicing anxiously through her clouded mind. She looked up at his unusually pale face while she attempted to slip back into reality. She was still lazily attempting to open her eyes when─

"Aaaah!" she screamed as she realized the only thing separating Snape's eyes from her exposed body were the bubbles floating atop the bath water.

Snape promptly averted his eyes from her, focusing on a water spot on the floor next to the tub. "Miss Granger, now is no time to be bashful," he stated, still not removing his eyes from the water spot. "You must get into bed immediately. I will give you a potion to help you sl─"

"NO!" she interrupted, causing him to take a fleeting glance at her face before returning his gaze to the floor. "I will _not_ be put to sleep again! I have been asleep for over a year now. There is no reason fo─"

"Foolish girl!" he yelled over her. "Unless you wish for the Death Eaters to torture you into divulging what you know, you will follow my instructions instead of continuing to be an insufferable little know-it-all!"

Her eyes grew wide as she processed his words. She realized exactly what he was saying, and she lifted her hand to his robes, pulling his face to within inches of hers. Startled, Snape stood still, nose-to-nose with his former pupil, staring at her questioningly.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" she asked, boldness facilitating her voice.

He glared at her, clearly taken aback by her menacing tone, before answering, "Lucius Malfoy is on his way here."


	3. Chapter Two: The Art of Manipulation

**Chapter Two: The Art of Manipulation**

"What do you mean he is on his way here?" she yelped, panic overshadowing her confusion.

"What I mean, Miss Granger," he sneered, "is that Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater and elder follower of the Dark Lord, is on his way to this house. He has owled me a message stating that the Dark Lord has recently become aware of certain plans of the Order of the Phoenix, making your revitalization all the more important. He is coming here to see if there is anything he can do to… speed up the process."

Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes before speaking, "What do you mean 'speed up the process'?"

"What I mean, Miss Granger, is that Lucius believes any individual, comatose or not, will respond rapidly and successfully to certain… persuasions. Blatantly speaking, the Unforgiveables."

Her nervousness was showing in her body language. She shifted uneasily in her bathwater, bubbles waving to and fro around her submerged shoulders. Gradually, her face contorted with anger. "Unforgiveables? You're saying he means to torture me into waking? That's absolute madness!"

Snape glanced down at the floor for a moment before facing Hermione once more. "Yes, Miss Granger, madness is quite an appropriate word for Lucius Malfoy, and many of the other Death Eaters. Regardless, your being tortured would indeed work, seeing as you are awake. If it did not, Lucius would do it anyway, if only for fun. You must retreat to your quarters immediately in order to feign your condition and… well..." his voice trailed off.

He was right. Fearing for her safety, she rose instantly from the water to her feet, knees locking in place before she realized what she had just done. Snape's eyes opened wide in a stupefied glare as her exposed body appeared before him. It took all of about three seconds for the two of them to realize the only things covering her nude form were water and a (thankfully) large gathering of bubbles. She froze for a moment, noticing Snape's eyes on her, before she crouched back down, narrowly submerging her chest beneath the water. In one fluid crouching-and-reaching motion, she grabbed a towel from the floor to her left and placed it in front of her body. She lifted her head to notice Snape's body was about-face, eyes staring forcefully back at the door so as not to look at her. His head was twisted to face the door, partially exposing the right side of his face. She could have sworn she could detect a hint of pink in his cheeks. _'Is he blushing?'_

Smirking despite the grim circumstances surrounding her, she rose while she wrapped the towel around her entire body before tucking the corners in at the front. "Ok Professor" was all she needed to say. He did not look back at her. He opened the door to the bathroom and walked them swiftly across the hall into her bedroom. She made her way to the bed and was about to get in when he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Were you planning on entering your bed in a towel?" he asked in a mocking tone.

She flustered a bit, blushing at the brainless mistake she had been about to make. He lifted his wand to her hair and grumbled the drought charm incantation, drying it instantly. "You will need to dress in your clothing from earlier. I will delay Lucius for as long as possible." "Accio" he stated loudly, pointing his wand in the direction of the bathroom. Her crumpled clothing flew through the air and landed in a heap at the foot of her bed.

He reached beneath his robes with his left hand and extracted a clear vile of orange liquid. Unscrewing the cap, he handed the bottle over to her and motioned for her to drink it.

"What is it?" she questioned, apprehension creeping into her voice.

"It is a Dreamless Sleep potion, Miss Granger. Drink only half. I will wake you in the morning after you've had a full night's rest." He turned to leave and paused, facing her once more. "Dress quickly," was all he said before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

She heard a massive groaning noise as the wood from the door forced itself against the doorframe. After a short creak and several small clicks, the door was sufficiently sealed.

She did as she was told. She searched the pile of soiled clothing located on the floor at the base of her bed. She dressed as quickly as she could while making as little noise as possible. Just as she pulled on her left sock, she heard a loud crack come from the floor below her. Someone had just apparated downstairs. She quickly downed half of the vial Snape had given her, and slipped under her covers, and into unconsciousness once more.

…………………

"Severus, how lovely to see you" lied Lucius, as he appeared in the living room of Snape's home. He glanced arrogantly around the room, sneering at the humble accommodations set before him.

"Really, Severus," he scoffed, "Could you not get a house elf to decorate for you? I suppose a woman's touch would be _entirely_ out of the question…"

Snape glared at Lucius, as though not at all offended by his comment. "Some of us are far too busy serving the Dark Lord to worry about such trivial matters, Lucius. Then again, I suppose some of us are not…"

Lucius' sneer was replaced by an indignant frown. "Yes, well… Severus… I suppose we should get on with this, should we not? Now… where is the girl?"

An indifferent expression appeared on Snape's face as he spoke. "She is upstairs. May I ask what precisely you expect to accomplish this evening, Lucius? As we both know, an unconscious mind is hardly susceptible to the imperius curse…"

A broad grin formed on Lucius' face. "Severus, I must say I am a bit surprised by your inability to recognize a good time when one is handed to you. The imperius curse may not help us much, as the mudblood is currently unable process thought. She will, however, react quite amusingly to the cruciatus curse."

Snape raised his brow as he considered Lucius' statement. "There is no point in torturing her, Lucius. She will not wake, and therefore will not confide in us any information that she may be privy to."

A deep, barking laugh escaped Lucius' mouth, startling Snape inwardly. "This is not for _information_, Severus! This is for _fun_! What is the point of taking prisoners if you cannot have a little fun with them?"

Snape paused, inwardly at a loss for what to say. After choosing his words carefully, he spoke again. "Lucius, as much as I would like to help you torture the little brat, I must decline. I have quite a bit of work to do if I am going to revive the girl by the deadline that the Dark Lord has given me. The potions I will need, unfortunately, are not within my grasp at the moment. I was actually about to depart when I received your owl. Now, if you will excuse me..."

Snape waved an open palm towards the front door, motioning for Lucius to leave.

"I _believe_," Lucius grumbled, "that I am quite capable of doing this on my own, _Severus_."

Severus gave a shrill laugh before answering him. "I _believe_, Lucius, that this is my home. No one, present company included, is welcome when I am not here. I have already sealed her door in preparation for my absence. I have no intention of unsealing it for _you_, before I leave."

Defeated, and seemingly annoyed, Lucius made for the door. With a last aggravated glance in Snape's direction, he took his leave from Snape's house.

………………………

Hermione awoke the next morning to see the sun blazing through the partially open window in her bedroom. She threw off the covers and remembered that she had gone to bed the previous night wearing the same clothes that she had been for months. What she wouldn't give for an unsoiled t-shirt and a clean pair of sweatpants…

She looked around the room for a dresser of some sort. The closest thing she could find was a half-open door to her right, which she assumed to be a closet. She made her way across the room, taking in her surroundings as she walked. The walls in this room were very much the same as the majority of the other rooms in Snape's home. A deep Slytherin green, the only difference in this particular room from the living room was the floor. The flooring was not the same rich mahogany she had seen when she first awoke in Snape's house, but a plush, dark brown carpet, laid wall-to-wall within the room. There was but a single picture on the wall. The photograph was of a young girl staring off into the sunset. It was encased in an oversized gold frame with a rope-styled etching. _'Slytherin green and gold… what a surprise'_

She reached the closet on the opposite side of the room as her bed, taking notice that it was quite large. A walk-in closet, it had one single clothing bar spanning the length of the inside, along with several shelves on the left and right sides. For a closet big enough to hold the wardrobe of a supermodel, it was surprisingly empty. There was only one shelf with anything on it at all, and even the contents of that shelf were sparse. She sorted through the six or seven items of clothing and selected a plain white t-shirt, and an oversized pair of blue running shorts, which she had to roll several times in order to get them to stay put on her hips.

Dressed in her newly acquired attire, she proceeded to make her way towards the staircase. She was slightly surprised to find that the door to her bedroom was unlocked. Apparently, someone had opened it for her sometime during the night. Hoping that that person was not Lucius Malfoy, she proceeded out the door and down the stairwell.

When she reached the landing she looked out into the living room for any signs of Snape. There were none. Cautiously, she crossed the room and entered the two-way swinging door that Snape had used to retrieve tea only hours before. The room she found on the other side was much more typical of the Snape that she remembered from Hogwarts. It was quite boring. The deep maroon floor tiles were cracked and uncared for. The kitchen cabinets were worn and tattered, and many of them were missing knobs or handles. The sink was plain, cold steel _'well that sure seems a lot more like Snape…'_, and had a long, coiled faucet hanging over the basin. Upon closer inspection, she realized the faucet was actually a hollow metal sculpture of a serpent. The refrigerator mirrored the walls perfectly- a deep, Slytherin green.

She had been in the room for several minutes before she remembered that she was still yet to find Snape. She looked around and noticed a single oak door at the far end of the kitchen. She crossed the room and attempted to turn the door knob, only to find that it was locked. Eager to find where Snape had gotten to, she pulled her wand from her waistband and muttered "alohomora" in the direction of the door.

Instantly the door flew open in the opposite direction. The room before her eyes was dark… too dark, in fact, to see the room's contents. Once again, she drew her wand and, whispering this time, said "lumos maximus." The room sprung to life as she gazed at walls upon walls of various works of literature. She stepped in from the doorway and turned to her right, raising her fingers to the first book on the shelf in front of her. _A Potion Master's Guide to Cauldron's_ was the first book that met her eyes. Amazed at the vast library of knowledge sitting in front of her, she ran a tempted hand over the books as she went.

The collection before her was mesmerizing. There were not only books relating to potions, but books on what she believed to be just about every magical subject there was. She moved slowly around the room, gasping every time she found a book that seemed overly stimulating. When she had circled the entire room and arrived back at her starting point, she stopped to take in the rest of the room's contents. There was a long black couch against the far wall opposite the door. The couch sat upon a deep green rug marked with gold and silver circles. She found the picture in the center of the rug especially intriguing. It was a miniature imprint of the constellation Orion; Far too philosophical for a typical Slytherin. Beside the long leather couch stood a small end table, wrought iron base with a plain glass on top. All things considered, the room seemed quite comfortable. Seeing as there was still no sign of Snape, she decided to partake in his enticing collection of tomes. She chose a piece entitled _101 Major Medical Maladies and How to Cure Them_, and took a seat on the plush leather sofa. Three pages into the selection, a deep, smooth voice interrupted her reading.

"I suppose manners would be too much to ask for," Snape noted to her from the doorway. "I should have expected as much from a Gryffindor."

Hermione frowned at the affront on her House. "I apologize, sir, but I was unable to find you. I thought that maybe you had gone in h-"

Her face quickly morphed into a sharp scowl as she was, yet again, interrupted by Snape. "You thought that maybe you would intrude upon the private rooms of my home. As I said before, how very_ Gryffindor_ of you…"

"I apologize, sir, but I was only-"

"Enough, Miss Granger," he droned smoothly. "Seeing as you have made it your business to explore my home uninvited, you may as well make yourself comfortable. I have something to discuss with you."

Hermione sat still, waiting for Snape to continue. He glided across the room and chose a seat beside her on the couch. He smoothed his robes across his thighs before turning his head toward her and continuing their conversation.

"Miss Granger. The time has come for you to learn a skill that few wizards and witches have been able to master. The Dark Lord will be attempting to break into your mind using the honed tool of Legillimency. Our wisest course of action, therefore, would be to have you learn the only known safeguard against it. That is to say, Occulmency."

She looked up at him with doubtful eyes. "Professor, as much as I would _like_ to learn Occlumency, I'm not sure that it is entirely possible for me to do so… I'm not like Harry, sir."

Snape scoffed at the comment. "Indeed, Miss Granger, you are _not_ like Mr. Potter. Therefore, it should not take you all of two years to be able to block out a simple memory. You will do fine."

'_Was that a compliment?'_

She smiled at the words that had just escaped her former Potions Professor's mouth. If Snape thought her capable of such a task, she might be able to master Occlumency after all…

Snape must have noticed her dreamy look, as he felt it imprudent to interrupt her gaze. "We will begin your training immediately. It will not be easy, nor will it be enjoyable. Occlumency is a skill learned only through fervor and determination. Hopefully, you have enough sense to exhibit at least a small amount of these attributes."

'_That was much less of a compliment.'_

"Are you ready to begin, Miss Granger?" he asked, rising to his feet and glancing downwardly at her.

She faltered a bit, attempting to find the courage to spout the words that had been on her mind since the previous evening. "Er- Professor, I… I don't mean to be facetious, but… well, I was just wondering…"

Snape sighed in an irritated tone. "Yes, Miss Granger, spit it out. You were just wondering _what_?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed. "I was just wondering if we were going to have some breakfast."

She let her eyes drop to her feet that were now shuffling back and forth on the floor. She didn't know why she felt so guilty for asking such a simple and logical question, but she did. She chanced a look up at Snape and noticed him staring intently down at her.

"Of course we can have breakfast. What would you like?" he asked plainly.

Unsure of whether he was being genuinely nice or simply mocking her, she hesitated before answering him. "Anything would be fine with me, sir. I suppose that I haven't really eaten anything of substance for a while."

As if he was just now realizing this particular piece of information, a sympathetic look faceted itself on his face. He held out and open hand, palm up, to Hermione, gesturing for her to take it. She did just that, and he helped her up from the couch in a very gentlemanly fashion. Once she had risen, Snape released her hand and turned towards the doorway, motioning for her to follow.

Once in the kitchen, Hermione stopped, assuming that Snape was going to extract some food for them from the cabinets or the refrigerator. She was slightly confused when he continued to walk, through the two-way door, and back into the living room. Perplexed, she followed after him, wondering where exactly their breakfast was going to come from.

As Snape reached the couch, he motioned for Hermione to stand aside. He extracted his wand from the inside of his robes and pointed it at the floor in the center of the living room. "inanimus conjurus" he stated boldly, holding his wand steadily in front of him.

Instead of the coffee table that had appeared the last time he used the spell, there was now a large, green and gold checkered blanket in front of them. On the blanket were seated two plush pillows, one in deep green and one in maroon.

Snape raised his wand once more and pointed it at the center of the checkered blanket. "picnis edibalis" he incanted. No sooner did he finish his last spell than a large picnic basket appeared in the middle of the blanket, centered between the two pillows. Hermione's face glowed with amazement at the incredible display of magic that she had just witnessed. Conjuring spells were difficult enough to master in the first place, but performing them with enough skill to choose the colors of the pillows at will? Now _that_ was talent.

"Sir," she exclaimed. "This is incredible!"

"No, Miss Granger," he droned, "This- is breakfast. Shall we?" The sarcasm in his voice went well with the twinkle she thought she saw in his eye as he spoke.

Hermione made her way to the maroon pillow and seated herself, cross-legged, on top of it. Snape walked around her and seated himself on the green pillow, but in an entirely more distinguished manner than his former pupil had just done. His legs were strewn neatly to his right side, his robes somehow settling themselves perfectly on top of them without a single crease. He looked over at her and motioned smoothly for her to indulge in the contents of the basket before him. "After you, Miss Granger."

Hermione reached for the basket and pulled it towards her. She opened the top and found the contents to be quite well organized. She took out two large, white plates, and handed one to Snape before placing the other one in front of herself. She reached back into the basked and extracted three large, silver bowls, each covered with a thin layer of plastic wrap. After placing the bowls between herself and Snape, she reached back into the basket and extracted a fork and knife for herself, as well as a set for her host.

She uncovered the bowls slowly, savoring the warm smells emitting from each of them as she went. The first was filled with scrambled eggs, cooked to perfection, neither too runny nor too dry. The second was filled with piles upon piles of bacon, a crisp scent emitting from the lot. The third was filled with what appeared to be French toast, dripping in what she could definitely smell was a rich maple syrup. Her stomach growled at the intoxicating scents engrossing her senses through her nostrils. She immediately took advantage of the smorgasbord that lay in front of her, heaping forkfuls of eggs, bacon and French toast on to her plate. She raised her fork in a motion to begin consuming her meal, when she noticed that Snape had not helped himself to any of the food.

"Aren't you eating, Professor?" she questioned him.

Snape smirked at her and reached for one of the bowls in front of him. "Perhaps a Gryffindor _is_ capable of common table manners."

Hermione smiled at the comment and began shoveling food into her waiting mouth, happily appeasing her aching stomach. It was, in a word, _fabulous_. Her senses came to life while she enjoyed the food that she hadn't known she had been missing for the last thirteen months. Halfway through the meal, her eyes searched the floor for something to quench her growing thirst. When she realized Snape had failed to conjure them any drinks, she turned back to her food and continued eating.

Snape, apparently noticing her desire for beverages, set his fork down and took up his wand. With a swish of his wrist and a silent incantation, two tall glasses of pumpkin juice appeared before them. Hermione smiled a full-mouthed grin as she took up her glass and drank from it graciously. When their meal was over, Snape took a handkerchief from inside of his robes and handed it to Hermione. She wiped her hands and made to pass it back to him, but he declined her gesture with an open-handed wave.

Snape rose to his feet and Hermione followed his gesture, walking away from the blanket and back towards the couch. Once they were both off the blanket, Snape raised his arm a fourth time and muttered "evanesco." Instantly, the entire atmosphere that was their breakfast table disappeared. The floor shone brightly where the blanket and food had just been, making it appear as though the entire affair had never happened.

Full, and wholly satisfied, Hermione took a seat on the gray couch behind her. Snape took his place on the seat cushion to her left.

"Thank you… for breakfast, sir. It was magnificent." She told him.

If she had been expecting a proper response, she would have been sorely disappointed. Snape merely nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment and promptly changed the subject.

"Occlumency, Miss Granger, is not a subject to be taken lightly. You will need to concentrate. You will need to clear your mind of all thoughts and emotions in order to keep the prying minds of others at bay. Come…" he directed, while he stood and began walking back towards the kitchen. They marched the same path that Hermione had taken earlier that morning, passing through the kitchen and into the room known to Hermione only as _Snape's study_.

When they entered the room, Snape motioned for her to take a seat on the leather sofa. She complied, choosing a seat in the middle of the couch, and sitting up straight while awaiting Snape's next instructions.

"Are you ready to begin, Miss Granger?" he questioned, straightening himself up to his full height as he stood before her.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

Snape looked please with her quick response. "Very well, then. I want you to clear your mind of all thought and emotion. No sadness, no anger, no confusion. Very simply put- nothingness. Try to look directly into my eyes while I attempt to break into your mind using Legillimency. I will count to three."

"One..."

'_clear my mind…'_

"Two…"

'_tranquility…'_

"Three…"

'_empty thoughts… nothingness…'_

"Legillimens!"

As the commanding incantation escaped Snape's lips, Hermione's mind went blank. For several drawn-out seconds there was nothing… open space… blank emotions… just herself and Snape's eyes…

As the seconds passed on she felt a familiar minute pressure at the back of her retinas. _'Oh, no…'_ She struggled to fight it, _'No… it's ok… tranquility… nothingness…'_ but the pressure ensued. Suddenly a swarm of memories was crossing in front of her eyes: She as a baby, making her building blocks float in the air in front of her, not knowing why they were able to defy gravity like that… She, Harry and Ron in the Hogwarts bathroom as she cowered beneath a sink whilst Harry and Ron fought the unruly troll… She, in potions class, staring up at Snape, admiring the skillful way he explained the proper procedure for brewing Amortentia… _God he's brilliant…_

Her eyes snapped shut, all memories falling from her mind in an instant. Snape was staring intently at her with a look on his face that she could not quite figure out.

"Impressive, Miss Granger" he stated coolly. "May I ask how you managed to clear your mind to such an extent on your first try?"

Hermione blushed at his question. "Yes, sir. My parents were avid anthropologists before my father opted to attend dental school. They studied many different cultural religions, and were especially fond of Buddhism. I simply meditated to clear my mind of all conscious thought, just as the Buddhists do."

Snape arched a brow in a highly impressed mannerism. "Interesting… Perhaps this will not be as unpleasant as I thought."

Hermione absolutely glowed at that particular comment. Maybe Snape was right… this wasn't going to be so bad after all…

…………………………

Eleven hours of practicing Occlumency later, Hermione's skills had not improved at all. If anything, they were worsening with the building stress of constant training. She found herself growing angry with Snape for not allowing her a break in between practice sessions. Her mind was growing thin and tired and she had developed a pounding headache. Just as she was about to scream at Snape that she could not take any more lessons without a break, he put an end to it for her.

"That's enough, Miss Granger." He stated as he watched her catch her breath over the last influx of memories that had been brought to the surface of her mind. This particular time she had been in the Hogwart's kitchen hiding hand-knitted hats and sweaters in between dirty dishes for the house elves to _accidentally_ find.

She glared at him through narrowed eyes and resumed her seated position on the large black sofa. Her head was pounding and the appetite that had been tugging at her earlier had subsided with the pain in her forehead. She had had enough for one day- all she wanted now was rest.

"As you wish, Miss Granger" Snape said out of nowhere, causing Hermione to snap out of her reverie and look up at him with questioning eyes. He sneered down at her and stated coolly "You have not mastered the art of Occlumency _yet_."

Tired, and a little annoyed that he had felt within his rights to read her mind without her permission, she conceded defeat. She rose, looking for him to lead her out of the study. They walked single-file across the kitchen and stopped at the bottom of the stairwell.

"We will resume our efforts first thing in the morning." Snape told her matter-of-factly. "You may use the washroom before you retire. I will be up shortly to seal your door."

She nodded, happily ascending the staircase in hopes that sleep would find her quickly once she reached her heightened destination. At the juncture of her bedroom and the bathroom she made to turn left to wash up before she turned in, but found she was too tired to do even that. Instead, she curved right and made for her bed. She removed her blue running shorts and slipped under the covers, willing sleep to take her quickly. She was, in spite of her fatigue, unable to sleep. The headache that had begun at the center of her forehead had crept slowly around to the base of her skull. She felt as if a hundred blast-ended skrewts were making a raucous in her brain.

As she laid her head as still as possible on her pillow in an effort to stifle the pain, she heard footsteps approaching her doorway. She heard Snape begin to recite the incantation that would seal her door for the evening and called out to him. "Professor?" she called.

He stopped the incantation mid-sentence and opened her door a crack, just enough to see if she was decent or not. Satisfied that she was adequately covered, Snape entered the room and stood at her bedside. "What is it, Miss Granger?" he asked in a slightly irritated tone.

"I was just wondering," she started, "if you had any headache potions lying around. I have a terrible migraine and I don't think I will be able to sleep tonight without one…"

Snape arched his left brow at her before turning on the ball of his foot and leaving the room, robes billowing behind him.

Confused as to whether he had left out of irritation or to retrieve the requested medicines, she could only wait with her eyes shut tight as her headache grew increasingly worse with every passing minute.

Several moments later Snape reappeared, striding up to her bedside and handing her a small, silver bottle with a cloud shape etched into the side of it. Assuming it to be a headache potion, Hermione drank it gratefully and handed the bottle back to Snape.

"That should take care of the headache. How do you feel?" he asked her.

She sat very still, afraid to shift her head in case the movement caused the migraine to worsen. After several seconds of consideration and ever-so-slight head movements, she realized that her headache had disappeared completely. She smiled up at the man before her and mouthed a small _thank you_ in his direction. A small twisted smile met her gaze in return. That was good enough for her.

As Snape turned to leave the room once more, she called to him again. "Professor?" she asked, but received only a blank stare in return. "How are we going to convince Lord--, _you-know-who_, to allow me to return here once he is through with me?" The words sounded miserable, even to her own ears.

Snape looked to his left for a moment before returning his gaze to hers. "I was hoping that I would not have to explain such things to you, Miss Granger. But, as I can see no way of avoiding it, I will tell you. Elder Death Eaters are often offered certain… concessions… after a particularly taxing assignment is completed. Though I have personally refused all offers in the past, I feel that that will only help to ensure the fact that the Dark Lord will find it suitable to grant me this _particular_ request. With the understanding that I am to discard you once I am done with you, the Dark Lord should find it acceptable to allow me to… use you… as I see fit."

A horrified look appeared on her face at Snape's staggering words. "He means for you to have your way with me?" she nearly shouted, still looking intensely into Snape's dark eyes.

"Do not flatter yourself, Miss Granger. Yes, he means for me to have my way with you. I am sure he would find it quite amusing, in fact. I, however, have no desire to spend any more time in present company than is _absolutely necessary_. Goodnight." With that, he exited her bedroom and locked the door as he had done the previous night. Overwhelmed, and still very tired, Hermione shifted to her side on the feathery mattress, thinking about what Snape had just said for several moments, before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter Three: A Little Help, Please?

**Chapter Three: A Little Help, Please?**

The following morning passed miserably. After seemingly endless unsuccessful attempts at performing Occlumency, Hermione had given up in frustration. Muttering something about _that being enough for the day_, Snape excused himself from the Study and left Hermione to ponder her thoughts.

She wanted so badly to master this craft, but so far it seemed impossible. She just could not clear her mind long enough to block his mental advances. Even when she felt her attempts were improving, all Snape needed to do was increase his efforts ever so slightly, and her mind opened up to him with a waterfall of memories. It was incredibly frustrating.

The headaches, fortunately, had been taken care of. A small dose of _headache potion_ before sessions was all it took to prevent the migraines from returning.

Tired of sitting alone in the room she had spent so much time in over the past couple of days, she rose off of the couch and made her way past the kitchen, and into the living room.

She arrived just in time to see Snape extracting a small roll of parchment from the leg of a large barn owl. She watched curiously as he unraveled the note and read the contents with interest. When he was done, he placed the roll of parchment into the right pocket of his robes and faced her with a slight scowl on his forehead.

"It appears that we will be receiving some company." He informed her dully. "Minerva has decided, as a solution to your hindered performance, that you should take lessons from someone less… _intimidating_… as she put it."

With a confused look on her face, she continued to stare at Snape, apparently waiting for more information on this _mystery guest_. When no such information came, she decided to be bold and simply ask him. "_WELL? _Who is it?"

Apparently taken slightly aback by her agitated tone of voice, Snape's eyes widened as he simply stared at her for a moment. After mere seconds, he regained his composure and glared at her once more. "Miss Granger, I will thank you to watch your tone in my presence. And our _mystery guest_, is none other than your celebrity friend himself. I'm sure Mr. Potter will be more than capable of _assisting_ you."

'_Damn! He did it again! Why can't the batty git stay out of my mind for just a damn min-'_

"The _batty git_ cannot stay out of your mind, _Miss Granger_, because you are a DREADFUL Occlumens!" He snapped.

She blushed furiously at his comment, a strong sensation of guilt settling itself in the pit of her stomach. She made to open her mouth in apology but was forced to close it again when Snape turned his back to her and made his way up the staircase to the second floor. Frustrated, and embarrassed by her choice of words… regardless of whether they were spoken aloud or not… she slumped down on the sofa and awaited Snape's return.

Nearly thirty minutes had passed with no sign of Snape. The embarrassment had long subsided by now, leaving her only anxious and impatient. Annoyed, she climbed the stairs with a scowl on her face and determination in her eyes. She turned to the left at the top of the staircase and opened the door at the end of that hallway. Expecting Snape's bedroom, she was quite disappointed when she found only an empty broom closet.

'_strike one…' _

She closed the door tightly and turned on her feet, trying to discern which of the remaining doors would lead to Snape's bedroom. Chancing the door to her immediate right, she flung it open and entered without caution.

"eeek!" she squealed, as the sight of her half-naked professor met her open eyes.

There he was… hidden only by a medium-sized green towel wrapped around his lower torso, only just covering his thighs down to the tops of his knees. His hair was dripping wet, wild and tussled with the lack of a proper combing. His chest was smooth and bare, and little drops of water were still making their way down from it towards his abdomen, eventually absorbing themselves into the towel around his waist.

Too shocked to say anything of substance, Snape just stood there, mouth agape at the startled woman standing before him, before he realized what he was… and _wasn't_... wearing. Grabbing his wand up from the bed with his right fist, he pointed it at the door and shouted "diffindohomora!" Instantly the door slammed shut, leaving a shocked and, once again, embarrassed Hermione on the other side of it.

……………………...

"_stupid… stupid… stupid…"_ she berated herself as she banged her head against the wall of her bedroom. She could not believe she had so arrogantly infringed upon Snape's privacy. She was even more frustrated at the fact that she was not at all unhappy with what she had seen. Under those usually-donned loose black robes, Snape actually had _quite_ a body.

"Stupid… no. Insolent, yes." Came his smooth voice from the doorway. She stared up at the now fully-clothed professor with flushed cheeks and an upwardly-creased forehead as she attempted to utter some form of an apology.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir! You were just gone for so long… and I hadn't heard any running water, so I just thought you were-"

"Avoiding you?" he quipped. "Yes, Miss Granger, that is precisely what I was attempting to accomplish. But, seeing as you find it so troublesome to be out of my company for any period of time, I will be sure to ask your permission from now on before bathing."

She shot an indignant look at him before saying "Now wait just a minute! I was _not_ troubled to be out of your company, I simply-"

"Whatever you say, Miss Grang-"

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME!" she shouted at him before he could finish his taunting remark. "_You_ listen to _me_, Severus! I am forever grateful to you for rescuing me from Lord V-Voldemort. That being said, you cannot treat me like a child that you have saved from running off with a stranger! I am an adult, and I deserve to be treated as such!"

Clearly taken aback by her statement and her audacity at addressing him by his first name, all Snape could manage to do was look at her with a stunned expression on his face.

"And furthermore," she continued, "I'll thank you to use my proper name. I am no longer your Potions student, and it will no longer due for you to address me as such. I want to be called by my first name. Out of respect for you, I will continue to address you as _sir_ or _professor_ until you find it acceptable for me to address you informally."

"Alright Miss Granger." He answered her, still apparently in shock at her impudence.

"It's HERMIONE!" She shouted at him, verbally pressing her point into his skull.

'…_and what a thick skull it is…'_

"That is _enough_, Hermione" he hammered at her. "You _may_ refer to me as Severus. That being said, it is one thing for you to ask me to address you as an adult. It is _quite another_ to expect me to put up with your childish insults, whether they are given verbally or not."

'_Legillimency… crap...'_

At the conclusion of her last thought, a loud crack sounded from the floor below them.

Snape spoke to her in a hushed whisper. "Stay here. I will go make sure it is safe."

Hermione did as she was told, leaning an eager ear against the door to her bedroom, trying to ascertain the identity of the person that had just apparated into the household. Several minutes passed and she was still unable to hear as much as a single word being uttered from the floor below her. Just as she was about to give up on her eavesdropping and retreat to her bed, she was flung backwards by the force of her bedroom door opening against her. Her buttocks hit the _not-so-plush_ carpet with a hard thump. Her tailbone ached in agony as she attempted to sit upright in order to properly view the person, or persons, that had just caused her to fly backwards on to the ground.

"Ginny!" she beamed, taking in the image of her long-time friend that was now standing in the doorway to her room. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny attempted to stifle her giggles at Hermione's amusing tumble. As Ginny regained her composure, she offered an outstretched arm in Hermione's direction, helping her up off of the carpet and onto her feet. With a quick hug and an ear-to-ear grin, she informed Hermione of the situation.

"Harry was sent on an urgent mission for the order, so I'm here to help you to develop your Occlumency skills."

Confused, Hermione questioned her friend further. "What d'you mean? You know Occlumency? How? Who taught you?"

Ginny took her friend by the hand and led her over to the bed. They sat across from each other, each with one leg bent under themselves and one hanging over the edge of the bunk, as Ginny filled her in on the events of the past thirteen months.

Apparently, Harry, Ginny Ron, Neville and Luna had been working full-time for the Order ever since the battle that had claimed Hermione as a prisoner. The assignments varied in difficulty, some being as simple as keeping watch over the Order's headquarters, and some being far more taxing. Ginny regaled Hermione with the story of her last assignment, which was to assist Harry in locating a large gold cup that was thought to be one of Voldemort's horcruxes.

"So then," Ginny informed her, "Harry muttered some incantation that he said he can't tell us about. A huge steam of black smoke erupted from the cup, and it was no longer a horcrux!"

Hermione ooh'd and aaah'd at the various interesting points in Ginny's tales. She really was enjoying her old friend's company. Finally, Ginny looked down at her hands that lay limply in her lap. She sighed miserably before looking back up at Hermione.

"We've been so worried about you, Hermione." She whispered. "Snape wouldn't tell us a bloody thing other than the fact that you were alive, and that you were safe."

Hermione looked at her friend with understanding in her eyes. "It's alright, Gin. I am out now. I'm safe."

She looked down at her friend's bowed head, expecting a smile to play upon her lips. Instead, she was somewhat heartbroken when Ginny raised her chin toward her, tears streaming down her face.

Ginny looked up at her with a fearful gaze. "But you're going _back_!" she bawled. "You are going to be back with that… that… _monster_! And they're all just going to let you! What if he doesn't believe you? What if he finds that you are of no use to him? What then, Hermione? I just can't lose you… not again…"

Hermione's own eyes were filled with tears now, both lids threatening to spill over onto her flustered cheeks. She fought hard to keep her emotions at bay, feeling the need to calm her friend's excited concerns.

"Ginny…" she started to say. "Ginny, it will be alright. I promise. Severus is going to be looking after me."

Ginny's brows furrowed upward in confusion as she heard her friend refer to their former Potions Professor by his common name. "_Severus_?" she grinned at Hermione, an inquiring smile forming itself on her partially-opened lips. "Since when is Snape, _Severus_?"

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh at her friend's obviously mislaid assumptions. "We're adults now, Ginny. There is no need for us to keep referring to him as our professor. We don't even go to _school_ there anymore."

Ginny continued to grin. "Ok, Hermione… whatever you say."

Hermione attempted a scowl at her friend, but it lasted only a short moment before she broke out in a wide grin and the girls began to giggle madly.

They were interrupted by a cool, smooth voice coming from the doorway to Hermione's room. "If you two ladies are quite finished, I was hoping that we might actually attempt to accomplish what Miss Weasley was sent here for in the first place. Or am I being unjustifiably optimistic?"

The girls continued to giggle the entire way down the stairs, through the kitchen and into Snape's Study. Hermione seated herself on the couch and stared up at the two parties before her, waiting for one of them to signal the next move.

Ginny looked impatiently at Snape, apparently waiting for him to leave the room. "I can handle it from here, Professor." She stated coolly, waiting for him to take his leave from her presence.

Hermione watched in silence for several minutes as her friend and her former professor stared intently into each others eyes, not a single emotion betraying their expressions. After five or so minutes had gone by, Hermione began to grow impatient.

"What-" she began, but was promptly cut off by the motion of Snape's outstretched hand being raised towards her in a _stop_ gesture. Confused, she sat impatiently once more as the two squared off for several more minutes. Eventually, they broke free of each other's gazes and Snape turned to Hermione.

"I'll leave you to your lessons." He droned, before turning to Ginny once more. "Your Legillimency and Occlumency skills are acceptable, Miss Weasley. We still have yet to see, however, if they will translate into a teaching environment. Try not to kill her before it is entirely necessary?"

He turned to leave, and, as he was exiting the door, Ginny stuck out her tongue at him in a very first-year fashion.

"I saw that." He called to her from the doorway.

Just as his robes disappeared from sight, Ginny let out a soft "_Batty old git_."

"I heard that, Miss Weasley!"

"_damn…" _

Hermione chuckled lightly at the boldness of her childhood friend. Ginny gave a faint smile in her direction, and then pulled her wand from within her robes. "inanimus conjurus" she muttered, as a tall wooden stool appeared before the two women. Hermione was impressed at the advances her friend had made with her magical abilities since the last time they had met.

"Ginny…" Hermione hesitated. "How did you manage to learn Occlumency, anyways? I mean, who taught you?"

Ginny blushed furiously as she considered her words carefully. "Well, after the first battle… Harry thought it was necessary… to… you know, protect myself."

Hermione looked confused for a moment. "I don't see why that is such a funny th-" she donned a wide grin. "Oooooh. I get it. So you two _did_ get back together after all?"

Ginny could not hold back her beaming smile any longer. "I love him, Hermione. I love him so much. It's absolutely perfect. I still get butterflies in my stomach every time I see him. My feelings haven't altered in the slightest since as far back as his first year. I'm so happy, Hermione!"

Hermione gave and ecstatic little _hop_ in her seat at her friend's words. Ginny was right. They were perfect for each other. After a minute of nothing but smiles and giggles, Ginny brought them back to reality.

"Ok, 'Mione. We really need to get started now. McGongall only gave me leave for the day. I have to accomplish as much as I can while I'm here. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be" Hermione managed.

Ginny stared at her now with a serious, let's-get-down-to-business look in here eyes. "McGongall told me that you have been able to shut out memories for a bit… right?" Hermione nodded. Ginny continued "Ok, then you have the basics down. The reason I am doing this in place of Snape is because you need to practice with someone you feel extremely comfortable with. That is how I was eventually able to learn. Now, I'm going to count to three. After each number I want you to clear your mind a little more, eventually having it go completely blank. You need to achieve _nothingness_, Hermione. S'alright?"

Hermione nodded once more, signaling for Ginny to commence the lesson.

"One…" Ginny counted.

'_emtiness… tranquility…'_

"Two…"

'_blank thoughts… blank thoughts…'_

"Three…"

'_nothingness'_

"Legillimens!"

For hours the girls practiced, each session bringing Hermione closer to her goal. By the time the clock on the wall struck midnight, Ginny was confident enough about her friend's abilities to bring in an outside tester. She left the room for a few short moments, returning confidently with Snape at her side.

"Go ahead," she taunted, "try her."

After several attempts at breaking into Hermione's mind, Snape gave an approving nod in Ginny's direction. "Impressive, Miss Weasley" he commented. "You may just prove yourself to be less of a dunderhead than I thought. I see Potter has been doing more with you than just _snogging_."

Ginny glared at Snape through narrowed eyes, before casually brushing him off and turning back towards Hermione. "Hermione, just remember what we practiced today. You'll be fine. I have to get going now. I have an assignment in the morning, and McGongall would be positively furious if I was late."

After a prolonged embrace, the two friends broke apart, each giving the other a casual kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Hermione."

Ginny turned to leave and gave a casual nod in Snape's direction. "Professor."

"Weasley."

With an evil grin, Snape called after Ginny "Tell Potter I said hello… if you two can tear yourselves away from each other long enough to attempt a conversation."

"_Batty old git_."

"Dunderhead."

Hermione chuckled at the two of them. Snape glowered down at her with a sarcastic look on his face. "It is time for us to retire, Miss Granger."

They walked up the staircase single-file, separating at the top of the steps.

Snape looked at her for a moment before speaking. "Tomorrow we will be attempting to fool one of the most powerful wizards of all time. You will need your rest." He reached into the front pocket of his robes and pulled out the same clear vial of orange liquid that he had given her the night Lucius had shown up. "As I said before, half the bottle should more than suffice. Try not to think about tomorrow. Rest well."

He turned towards his bedroom and she called after him. "Goodnight, Professor."

Pausing at his door, but still not turning round to face her, he stated softly "Goodnight, Hermione."


	5. Chapter Four: The Dark Lord

**Chapter Four: The Dark Lord**

She stood in front of the mirror and adjusted her hair, tying it back in a neat pony tail. Reaching onto the counter in between the two sinks, she picked up the same raggedy clothing that she had been forced to wear over and over again. With a quick _"scourgiify," _her clothing was, while still worn and tattered in places, at least clean. She tossed her t-shirt casually over her head and poked her arms through the openings on the sides, taking care not to rip the already worn fabric. She pulled on her tattered pants and fastened them at the waste. He slipped her worn and uncomfortable shoes on her feet and took one last fleeting glance in the mirror.

She certainly looked healthier now than she had a few days ago. The color had returned to her skin and the weakness she had first felt from lack of muscle usage had long since subsided. The simple act of bathing had left her looking incomparably better than she had when she was first brought to Snape's house.

She exited the bathroom and hurried herself down the stairway, taking care not to trip in her less-than-sturdy footwear. Nearing the bottom of the hall, she paused, listening for sounds of Snape moving about the living room. There were none.

She peeked her head around the corner of the stairwell to find Snape sitting on the sofa, legs positioned prim and proper in front of his body, feet planted flatly on the floor. His face was looking straight out in front of him, but his eyes had a dazed look about them, making it appear as if he was in a world of his own. Sensing Hermione in the room, he turned his head to face her, eyes now taking on the normal, discontent look that they so often bore.

Snape looked at her vaguely, seemingly trying to figure out an enigma within his own mind. His brow furrowed as he looked at her, eyes boring straight into hers while that still-perplexed look stood its ground in his gaze.

"Miss Granger," he started, "I sincerely hope you are confident in your Occlumency abilities. It will be no light task fooling the Dark Lord. I feel you should be prepared for what could very well happen once you are back in his company."

Hermione swallowed hard, a dense knot forming in the center of her throat. Her mouth was suddenly very dry… she was finding it difficult to swallow. She had known this day was coming for almost a week now, but the dread of the situation had been absent up until this point. Now, the immediacy of the situation hit her full force, as the event lay directly in front of her. "I am confident with my Occlumency, sir."

"Very well." He stated in an even tone. "We will be leaving shortly. You must remember, even with a closed mind, the Dark Lord has ways of knowing when someone is telling an untruth. If he asks you questions, especially questions regarding your experiences over the past week, you must not falter- verbally or otherwise. Do you understand me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded. She knew what Snape was probably referring to. Body language was a dead giveaway when attempting to fool someone, especially someone as powerful and perceptive as Lord Voldemort. Her emotions had sometimes betrayed her in the past, but they would do no such thing today. Today was far too important to allow her fears and feelings to get in the way of her task.

She wondered how long their journey would be to Voldemort's lair. From past experiences, she knew it was best to get things over with. Today, however, her mind did not seem to want to think along those lines. It would be a relief to prolong the inevitable event, if only for a few hours.

Snape rose off the sofa and smoothed the front of his robes with his hands. He walked across the dully-lit living room and stood before the door, arms crossed at the chest, looking as if he was in deep thought for the second time that morning. Hermione wondered at what was distracting him so tauntingly.

She hesitated, torn between chancing asking what was bothering him, and safely keeping her mouth shut. The look on his face was distant. He still held his normal, disgruntled look about him, but at the moment he also seemed somehow- disengaged.

"Is everything ok, Professor?" she asked him tentatively.

As if he had just remembered she was in the room with him, Snape looked over at her, brow furrowed, no answer showing any sign of making its way to his lips. He kept his gaze fixed on her forehead for a short while, seemingly still pondering whatever it was that had been transfixing him over the last few minutes. Eventually, he lowered his gaze from her brow and met her eyes. He hesitated before speaking to her, apparently second guessing whatever he was about to say.

"You may see some things today, Miss Granger, that are wholly unsettling. You must remember that I am going to the Dark Lord today as his follower, not your protector." She thought she saw a pained look creep into his eyes as he continued. "I cannot help you if you falter. The consequences will be yours alone to bear."

His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She knew that this would probably be the case, but she hadn't expected him to confirm the information in such a blunt manner. "I know, sir…" she said dismally.

She stood quietly for a moment longer before speaking to him again. Her mind was doing circles. There were so many things that could happen when she was in Voldemort's presence. Would he torture her- for information, or even just for his own amusement? What means, besides Legillimency, did he have to coax information from her? That particular thought brought a question to her lips.

"Sir... what if he uses veritaserum?"

Snape looked blankly at her, staring into her eyes for a moment before responding. "I will take care of that."

He placed his wand in the waistband beneath his clothing, then, as if from habit, smoothed his robes with his hands. He gave Hermione a curt nod, indicating that she should move forward to his location. He reached out his right hand and placed it on the door knob, but paused before turning it. Both arms at his sides, he stared the now-closer Hermione in the eyes, then spoke in a controlled, yet important voice. "When we enter the Dark Lord's lair, I need you to remember something, Miss Granger." Her brow raised slightly at his anxious tone. She looked up expectantly at Snape, awaiting his directions. He spoke even more urgently now, but still held the same control in his voice that he had displayed the last time he spoke. "Things are not as they seem."

"What did you say?"

"I said," His voice was growing impatient at this point, "things are not as they seem. You would do well to remember that."

Her mind swam with memories of her day on the battlefield. Snape had just repeated the _exact same phrase _that Harry had so urgently tried to convey to her before the initial struggle. She paused for a moment, making the connection with her mind. She looked up at Snape with a perplexed look, ready to question him as to what exactly the statement was supposed to mean. She waited for his eyes to catch hers once again, but it was almost as if he was purposely avoiding her gaze now… Why, she could not fathom.

"Prof-"

"DO-NOT-QUESTION-ME-MISS-GRANGER!" He spat at her, suddenly whipping his head around in her direction, his usual glare posted promptly on his face.

She jumped as he growled at her, shock registering immediately on her face. There were those mood swings again. He had reacted the same way that Harry had when she questioned his instructions. Still without a vivid answer, but unable to argue further with the snarling beast standing before her, she simply nodded, acknowledging her acceptance of his orders.

Apparently satisfied with her nodded acquiescence, Snape turned back to the door and opened it, leading them outside. Once Hermione was safely out the door behind him, he raised his wand to the creases in the entryway and repeated the same spell that he had used to seal Hermione's quarters. He turned to her, nodded forward, and began their slow walk down the cobblestone walkway.

She felt a nervousness creep over her as they began to make their way to their final destination. It was odd, how the realization of what could be about to happen hit her so suddenly. Sure, she had been nervous all along, but nothing compared to how she felt now. She could feel the butterflies filling her stomach. Her heartbeat, while not rapid, was definitely increasing in strength. She needed to take her mind off of what was about to happen, if even just for the duration of the trip. She scanned her surroundings for a few seconds as the distance between herself and the house grew.

They had gone as far as the end of the walkway before it occurred to her that their stroll was somewhat unnecessary. "Sir?" she asked. "Why are we leaving your house to apparate to V-Voldemort's lair?" She knew it could not be because Snape had any anti-apparition enchantments on the house- Malfoy had managed to apparate there only nights before.

"Do you really think, Miss Granger, that one can simply apparate into the Dark Lord's lair?" He sneered at her with an almost mocking look in his eye. "There are few very well hidden points that will allow one to apparate _close_ to the Dark Lord's location. Luckily for us, one of those points is only just around the corner. Otherwise, we would have quite the walk in front of us indeed. The Dark Lord's lair is second in protection only to one other location in this world."

"Hogwarts." She replied, more of an answer than a question. The mention of her former school pulled her mind back to the place that she had called her home for so many years. Her heart soured a little as Dumbledore's face crept into her mind, then brightened once more at the thought of all the wonderful years she had spent at the school, under his reign as Headmaster. She began to think of the many unforgettable experiences she had undergone while at the beautiful castle. The memories of Christmas Holidays spent in the dorms with Ron and Harry… DA meetings with her fellow students… making fun of potions classes with her two best friends and the rest of the Gryffindors…

She was wrenched back into reality by the sound of Snape's voice.

"Stop walking." He said softly but sternly.

She froze in her tracks. Snape was not moving at all. He stood there, poised, like a snake readying itself to strike. She looked up at him, then all around her- searching for any sign of whatever it was that was making him halt so suddenly. She stilled her head, listening intently for any sound that would indicate their purpose for stopping. Her eyes roamed the open space in front of her, sun shining brightly against them in the noon sky, trying to see a person, or a Death Eater, or worse…

She was just about to relax her stance, seemingly having decided that Snape's cautionary pause was the consequence of a false alarm, when she saw them.

Witches and Wizards were surrounding them from all sides, closing in… and closing in fast. They were walking briskly towards them, possibly nervous that the twosome would scurry, should they quicken their pace to a run. Their wands were all at the ready, curses just itching to spring from their wooden tips to the people they were aiming at maliciously.

Her mind was racing. She could not make out any faces, just black robes flowing steadily towards the two of them. Her eyes darted up towards Snape, who was still standing motionless beside her, eyes taking in the army that was advancing toward them. She was waiting for a sign- some reassurance that he knew exactly what to do next.

Out of nowhere, he linked his arm with hers and pulled her towards him, drawing her unnaturally close to his body, and wrapped his other arm around her back. She had just enough time to register what he'd done when she felt that familiar whirling sensation consume her. She closed her eyes tightly and caught her breath in her throat, just in time to feel her feet plunk hard onto the earth below her.

Snape was still clutching her tightly to his chest when she opened her eyes to see where they had landed. The area was dark and gloomy. They were surrounded by trees in all directions except for above, but atop the foliage where the sun should have been shining in on them, there was only a dull, gray haze. A chilly breeze crept over her skin and under the openings in her t-shirt, forming goose bumps on her arms and causing her to shiver lightly. She looked up at Snape, expecting him to explain what had just happened, but was disappointed to see him looking away from her, seemingly disinterested in answering any questions that she may ask of him.

"Professor?" His eyes lowered themselves to hers as the words reached his ears. "Who were they?"

He looked down at her incredulously, his eyes ridiculing her as if he thought she was playing a joke on him. "You're telling me that you did not recognize them?"

"No, sir." She replied. "I wasn't able to see their faces. Were they… his?"

Snape appeared puzzled for a moment while a curious look played across his face. "You thought the wizards that were attacking us were Death Eaters?

Her brow arched upward- now it was her turn to look confused. "Well, who else could they have been?"

He scoffed at her before looking away, quickly returning his gaze to hers. "Think before you speak, Miss Granger. Why would Death Eaters be coming after _me_?"

She thought about the statement for a minute. He was right. There would have been no reason for Voldemort's followers to attack him. He was doing exactly as his make-shift master had ordered him. He was bringing the revived prisoner back to his lair, rejuvenated and ready to be questioned. But, if those weren't Death Eaters…

"Ministry Officials" he finally stated to her, although in a much harsher tone than she would have liked. "Aurors and Hit Wizards, most likely. They have been after me ever since… since last year."

Hermione knew why he had stumbled on his words. The ministry had been after him every since Dumbledore's death. It somehow seemed obvious now, that he would not have been able to walk about freely with the Ministry lurking in his wake. He had mentioned, and it was confirmed by Ginny, that the Order knew of his true devotions. He was innocent in, or, at least not at fault for, Dumbledore's death. Judging by today's events, however, the ministry was aware of no such devotions.

"Aaargh" he grunted, pulling away from Hermione and walking toward a large birch wood tree to his left. He ruffled the hair on the back of his head with his right hand, messing it up so that it looked as if they had flown to their new location rather than apparated. She shivered more intently while a fresh breeze passed her face, the cold getting to her more now that she was no longer standing next to another warm body.

"I should have thought about the ministry before we departed. They will double, if not triple, their search efforts now… especially if they recognized _you_." He gave her a harsh scowl before turning away. He sat down on a nearby rock, forehead balanced in his hands while his elbows rested on his knees.

"What do you mean, if they recognized _me_?" she asked, cautiously walking towards him with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"They now know I have you. They will be attempting to rescue you, and probably to arrest me for kidnapping." He grumbled, not lifting his head from his palms.

She laughed lightly at his statement. "_You_ didn't kidnap me! That's absolute madness!"

"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," he snapped at her. "The ministry, however, is not. Our situation just became much more complicated. Obviously they know where I live now. Returning to that location will not be an option… Not to mention the fact that without access to the proper apparition point, we now have to _walk_ the rest of the way…"

"Sir?" she asked, her voice shivering with the encompassing cold as she spoke, "Why couldn't I just… go with them? Instead of facing Lord V-Voldemort? They could protect me fro-"

"NO ONE IS SAFE FROM THE DARK LORD!" He urgently interrupted her with brute force. "If you abandon him, and seek solitude, he will find you. He will find you, and he will KILL YOU! Do you understand me?" He had released his face from his hands and turned his blazing eyes upward to face hers. "You are not safe. You are not going to put your life in jeopardy… no more so than it already is, at any rate."

A determined look spread across his face. He stood up and walked briskly towards her, grabbing her hand in his own and pulling her awkwardly into the forest, along a make-shift path that formed amidst the numerous birches and red-woods surrounding them.

They continued on for several minutes, his grip remaining rigid around her hand. As they approached a clearing he halted, nearly causing her to slam into him from behind. He peered out into the open space and turned, staring down at her from above.

"Are you ready?" he stated broadly.

What a question. Was she ready? No. No, she would never be ready for something like this. Then again, who would be? She supposed she was as ready as could be expected, so she looked up at him with a reassuring gaze. She nodded, unable to respond to his words of warning. She looked past him onto the clearing ahead, somewhat relieved that they did not appear to be nearing their destination just yet.

"Follow closely behind me. We are nearly there." He told her as her stomach dropped slightly.

Snape pulled his wand from within his robes and marched them both forward, wand at the ready. They walked for several minutes before they reached the end of the clearing and stood still, looking down into a deep chasm in front of them. He reached into the outer pocket of his robes and pulled out a small, blue bag with a silver draw-string holding it shut. He untied the clasp and reached into the pouch with his bare hand, pulling out what looked to be a handful of silver glitter. She watched curiously as he looked out in front of him, searching for something at the bottom of the cliff. Apparently satisfied with what he found, he sprinkled a pinch of the dust in front of him into the open air. Where the dust should have continued to fall, it stopped, landing on what should have been nothing but sky. He reached his arm out further and sprinkled yet more of the silvery substance. Once again the sparkles landed on the invisible walkway, creating a path in front of them.

"It's safe." He stated plainly, glancing back in her direction only briefly before continuing on with his dusting of the space in front of them.

He motioned for her to follow him and placed one foot on the air in front of them, careful to follow the path that the glitter had created. They walked slowly and cautiously across the canyon, Snape alternating his efforts between sprinkling the dust and looking back at Hermione. When they finally made it across he stepped onto the grass before them and reached out an open palm in her direction, assisting her off of the path and onto the safe, visible ground beneath them.

They walked to the end of the other side of the clearing to a second grouping of trees. Approximately twenty feet inside the new woodland they came upon a large, human-sized boulder that blocked the path before them. Snape paused before the massive granite barrier and held a hand up to Hermione, signaling her to come no further. She looked at him questioningly but obeyed his silent order, watching his movements as he proceeded.

After placing his wand in his waistband beneath his robes, he took his left sleeve in his right hand, rolling it carefully up his arm until it rested easily in a twisted mass at the crevice between his bicep and his shoulder. He crouched down low, the backs of his thighs pressed tightly against his calves as he tried to put as little distance as possible between himself and the ground. He placed his left arm before him, palm facing downward, and lowered it wearily to the stone obstruction ahead. She jumped as she saw he was pushing his arm toward a sharp stone splinter that was protruding oddly from its host. He grazed his arm along the pointed projectile, dragging it mercilessly from elbow to wrist. Her breath grew raspy as she watched him, helpless, unable to stop him from purposely shredding his flesh. He rose slowly, balancing his injury upward, apparently trying to conserve the blood on his forearm. He made his way towards a dark, blotchy spot on the rock before him. Careful to balance his arm as he raised it to the stain, he made contact with the rock, his body unflinching as he did so.

Instantly the rock dissolved, leaving a U-shaped area of brush before them. She looked down at the earth where the rock had been, and was startled to see that a dark, cavernous hole had lain beneath it. She looked up at Snape just in time to catch the injured area of his arm with her eyes before he covered it with his sleeve once more. The injury had disappeared completely, leaving only the dark mark behind. A soft, green glow was coming from the brand, accentuating the skull and serpent with its radiance. She looked up towards Snape, only to see a scornful glower staring down at her from his face. A feeling of guilt manifested itself in her stomach. Clearly he did not like people staring at his Dark Mark.

After a few seconds of scowling sharply at her, he pulled his wand from within his robes once more and beckoned her forward with his neck, directing her into the pit below them. "Lumos" he stated clearly, lighting the path before him as they went.

She took in the poorly lit walkway with her eyes. It had obviously been burrowed into a large concentration of rock. The walls were jagged and slimy, teaming with brown roots forming vines along the ceiling and sides. The steps were simply carved rungs in the rock below their feet, slippery with the mold and condensation that inhabited the passage around them. Ultimately the stairway came to an end, landing them on a smooth, flat surface that lay atop the base of the grotto. They walked slowly forward, Snape in the lead, until they came to a large wooden door at the end of the hall. Snape raised his wand and muttered "dissendium." At once the door swung open outwardly, allowing them passage into the next room.

The area before them was much like the entry room in the Department of Mysteries. The room was circular with 5 sealed, wooden doors, none of which donned a handle or doorknob. The floor to this room was no where near the same as the hallway floor that preceded it. A bright, polished gloss garnished the marble tile beneath their feet, the green and black swirls of the tiles shining up at them brilliantly. The roof and walls were plain black, seemingly unpainted, and definitely undecorated. The doors spanned the entire height of the walls, dominating their space from floor to ceiling. Hermione wondered briefly how they were to access any of these doors without a lever, but her query was answered before she had a chance to ask it.

"Nox" Snape stated aloud, successfully extinguishing the light emitting from the end of his wand.

The third door from the right opened without provocation, and Snape walked towards it without motioning for her to follow. She pursued him through the doorway and into the next room, which looked an awful lot like a muggle Doctor's waiting area. The walls and floor were basic white, and a long metal bench spanned the right side of the room from one wall to the other. There were no decorations, no windows, and… no door.

Hermione's face scrunched up in confusion at the room surrounding her. There seemed to be no portal to access another room. She looked up at Snape with the intention of questioning him, but, once again, he refused to meet her gaze. "Sir, wh-"

"Silence." He said in an almost inaudible whisper. His head was facing forward and his eyes were staring at the wall in front of him. Without changing his stance, he added "They are watching."

Out of nowhere the room fell into darkness, and a small white light crept up through the cracks at the sides of the floor where it met the walls. She felt his arm brush against her as he raised it above his head. In the darkness she could not see that his wand was raised with it, but it was instantly obvious when he incanted a spell she had never heard uttered aloud before: "Morsmordre!"

She gasped a sharp intake of breath at the horribly dark spell he had just performed. The room burst to life as the radiant green light of the dark mark expanded itself across the ceiling of the room. The walls began to shake and the light at the corners of the floorboards grew brighter, giving her the impression that the foundation of the room was coming unhinged.

"Incarcerous!" she heard him yell, as invisible ropes began to encase her body.

Nervously she tried fighting her binds, but her efforts were fruitless. Her arms felt like they were glued to her sides and lower back, wrists locked together in the small fissure behind her and above her waistline. Her bindings were tight- but they could have been tighter.

She felt herself being pushed up against the wall behind her, Snape's strong hand placed on her forehead to keep her from turning her head. His other hand flung cogently to her mouth, parting her lips and opening her jaw. She felt a hard, round object being forced into her oral cavity, scraping against her tongue as it forced its way toward her throat. She struggled against it, trying desperately not to swallow whatever it was that he was attempting to feed her. Eventually she gave up, allowing the unidentified object to be ingested into her waiting stomach. She wanted to speak- to protest- to question his actions. But, for some reason, she felt she could not. Her breaths became deep and desperate after she swallowed whatever it was he had given to her. Her eyes were searching his face for a sign of emotion, but his eyes were fixed above her head, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Do not speak." He commanded as he lifted his hand from her mouth and forehead and grabbed her arm around the bicep, holding her steady as if she were about to crumble to the floor at any moment.

Suddenly she realized that the light surrounding her from the corners of the floor was brightening. The room was descending underneath them, the walls keeping their blank state. She nearly fell when they finally came to a halt at the level below them, Snape's arm being her only saving grace from her impending fall. She regained her balance fretfully and looked to Snape for further instruction, but his gaze remained steady, his face indifferent.

Her mind was racing. She had felt almost safe in Snape's presence up until his last act. But now…

Her eyes were swimming with tears of confusion. She didn't dare question him. The angry scowl on his face was enough of a deterrent in and of itself.

This new room was dark, almost wholly, and the colors of the floor and walls beside her were undetectable to her struggling eyes.

He walked forward with his wand at his side, holding it up and out slightly to the right. She stood still, watching where he was going, until she felt herself being jerked forward by some invisible leash. He was dragging her along, arms fastened, at a swift and forceful pace. She attempted to view the atmosphere in her vicinity, but found it too difficult to jog forward with her head tilted to the side.

They trudged onward in the increasing darkness, not even the soft light of an illuminated wand to guide them. She deduced that Snape must have committed their path to memory during his past journeys. She felt his left palm strike her collarbone in an effort to stop her. He had turned around in the darkness and forced her to a halt.

She felt him lift his hand from her chest and turn away from her once more. A thin, glowing blue line was forming in the wall in front of him as he traced his wand in a rectangular pattern against it. The pattern had formed the shape of a door, which opened slowly before the two of them. He pulled her into the room with his hidden leash, silent as he physically urged her forward. The room before her was brighter than the hall from which she had just departed, but it was lit with only a dull, roaring fire positioned at the back of the room.

She looked to the left of the fireplace, and, suddenly, her heart stopped. There he was- Lord Voldemort.

"Welcome, Severus." Came the cold, calculating voice.

"My Lord." Snape answered him post-haste, before making a swishing movement with his wand and walking swiftly to Voldemort's position and kneeling before him.

Voldemort looked at him with what seemed to be distaste before raising a hand and motioning to the corner opposite him. "Step aside, Severus."

Snape did as he was told, rising up to his full height once more and walking expeditiously to his directed corner. He turned to face the Dark Lord and relaxed his wand at his side, eyes moving lazily between Voldemort and Hermione.

Her heart was beating rapidly as she tried to control her emotions as best she could. Voldemort was not speaking to her as of yet, only standing there, glaring at her indifferently. He looked upon her as if she was an insect in need of squashing. There was no hint of interest or excitement in his eyes, only callous discontent with the young witch standing before him.

"Granger, is it?" he questioned her.

She stood her ground, unmoving, not answering his question with even an affirming nod. Her heart was beating uncontrollably by now, as she struggled to remember the Buddhist practices she had used to calm herself only days before.

"I understand that you are knowledgeable about certain… activities… of the Order of the Phoenix. Is this correct?"

She stood her ground once more, still unsure if she should answer his question or deny him completely. Her breathing was steadying now, her mind growing less active as she struggled to find a peaceful image to calm her. She glanced hopelessly at Snape, desperate for some direction as to what she should do. He kept his face toward Voldemort, although she could tell he saw her looking in his direction. With one, deep, soothing breath, she forced her body to relax. She cleared her mind as best she could, hoping it would be enough to stave off the power of the man before her.

He spoke again, his voice vile but indifferent, as he continued his discourse. "No matter. There are several ways to discover the truth, young witch. You will divulge to me what you know… one way or another."

He crept forward towards her, gaze unfaltering, arms by his side with his wand hanging loosely from his right hand. He stopped just short of her, staring her directly in the eyes with a faint smirk playing upon his lips. His eyes were horrid slits in his already-mutilated face. The red glow surrounding his pupils was piercing her sight, forcing her to keep her gaze even with his own. She vaguely registered the motion of him raising his wand arm towards her before she heard a harsh, raspy voice speak to her from inches in front of her face. "Legillimenssssss"

Her mind went blank. There were no images flashing in front of her as they did when she first attempted to shut the spell out of her mind. The pressure she felt in the back of her eyes when Harry first used Legillimency on her was still there, but had subdued itself to a dull ache. She was feeling unexpectedly peaceful when-

"CRUCIO!"

She had felt this pain before. The knives were once again piercing her flesh down to her very bones. Her heart was racing with the speed of a firebolt, her mind unable to process any thoughts other than the feeling of pain that was coursing angrily through her body. Once again, as quickly as the pain had settled upon her, it was gone.

It took her a moment to comprehend that she had been writhing on the ground. She didn't even remember falling. She arched her head slightly upward, enough to allow her to see what Voldemort was doing. She watched him as he paced angrily back and forth in the room, stopping at one wall and turning on his heels to march back towards the other.

He eventually stopped; the smirk he held before his attempt at Legillimency now played lightly on his lips once again. He raised his left palm in the air and paused, staring intently at the collapsed figure on the floor before him. Magically a bottle appeared in his hand, emitting a tiny puff of smoke as it arrived. The vile appeared to be clear glass, no longer than two inches tall, with a deep green stopper restraining the liquid within. The potion itself was as see-through as water. She knew what the bottle must contain. She kept her composure and continued to stare blankly into her torturer's eyes with an apathetic look controlling her gaze.

"I suppose you know what this is, then?" the cruel voice questioned her. "There will be no hiding your knowledge once you have drunk i_this/i_." He stopped and turned his head to the far corner of the room. "Severus. Administer this to the mudblood."

Snape approached him obediently, bowing deeply before taking the vile from his theoretical master. He approached her slowly, careful to keep her gaze as he walked. He bent down on to one knee, extracting the green cap from the crucial container. She must have looked like she was about to speak to him, because he shot her a warning look before lifting the vile to her lips. A tear manifested itself in the crevice between her eye and her sinuses as she drank down the liquid that she believed would be her downfall.

Snape finished without a word, capping the bottle and returning dutifully to his prior position in the room.

"Leave" Voldemort sneered at Snape. "Fetch Draco from the lab."

Snape answered almost before Voldemort could finish speaking. "Yes, My Lord."

He walked from the corner of the room and stepped in front of the blazing fire, placing one foot in after another before disappearing within the hearth. Voldemort waited impatiently for Snape's return, glaring from Hermione to the fireplace over and over again. Minutes later the fire swirled viciously, expelling Snape from its core. Draco immediately followed in Snape's wake, stepping gleefully into the room.

"You called, My Lord?" Draco asked, stepping to Voldemort and kneeling before him.

"Take a seat, Draco." Voldemort raised his wand to waist-height and pointed over Draco's still-bowed head to the open space behind him. A tall, mahogany-colored stool conjured itself in thin air, balancing evenly on the floor behind the boy. Draco obediently sat where he was told, glanced once at Snape, and returned his gaze to his master.

Voldemort turned his eyes back to Hermione, lowering his wand upon her. She shuddered visibly, causing him to let out a low, quiet cackle. His wand jerked upward as she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Her feet were dangling inches above the ground below as she floated helplessly in mid-air. Slowly, gently, she felt him replace her, standing now, to the floor.

"Tell me what you know of the Order of the Phoenix." He ordered bluntly.

"I know nothing." She replied.

'_How did I manage to say that?'_

She felt her heart rate increase as he stared at her, menacingly, preparing himself to ask another question. She concentrated on keeping her mind blank and her body at east, in case he chose to try Legillimency on her again.

Voldemort looked at her incredulously, seemingly thinking over his next move. "Tell me what you know of Harry Potter. Is he under protection of the Order?"

"I don't know. I have only heard of the Order, I have no idea who is involved in it, or whether it has anything to do with Harry."

"She's lying!" came Draco's excited voice from the stool diagonal to her. His lips were turned upwards in a triumphant smile, making her stomach grow queasy at the sight of him. "She knows who is in the Order! She's friends with the Weasley family, and we have already proven that they are involved!"

"CRUCIO!" Came Voldemort's cold, angry voice once more. Only this time, his wand was not aimed at Hermione.

Draco's body fell writhing backwards off the stool to the ground, the back of his skull smacking hard onto the floorboards below. His face contorted in pain, his extremities flailing wildly about him. As Voldemort lifted his wand, the seizing stopped, and Draco panted painfully as he attempted to catch his breath.

"DO NOT INTERRUPT YOUR MASTER!" Voldemort roared.

Draco was still attempting to regulate his bated breathing while he answered Voldemort's raging call. "I-I'm sorry M-My Lord. F-Forgive m-m-me."

Voldemort sneered at Draco with a look of disgust, but did not respond to his plea for absolution. Instead, he walked towards the boy, standing over his still twitching body with a cold, hard look in his eyes.

"She has been given a concentrated dose of veritaserum." Voldemort hissed. "She could not lie if she wanted to."

Voldemort walked to the back of the room and snatched a pinch of powdery sand from a wooden bowl on the mantelpiece. He turned his gaze to Snape and spoke in a cold, disapproving tone. "Draco may use her for practice. Dispose of her when you are finished."

He was about to throw the floo powder into the fireplace when Snape spoke to him. "My Lord," he said confidently. "I realize that, in the past, I have refused any rewards you have offered me. I still feel that I am not worthy of any such prize. However…" he glanced fleetingly at Hermione before returning his gaze to Voldemort. "I was hoping that you would allow me use of the mudblood, before I am to dispose of her."

Voldemort's grimace turned to a wide grin at Snape's words. "Severus… I am impressed. I was beginning to think you had gone soft. Consider the girl yours. Draco may rehearse with her at your discretion."

With that, Voldemort tossed the floo powder casually into the hearth of the fire, and vanished from the room.

Snape advanced on Hermione with his wand drawn, but was cut off abruptly by Draco rising in his path. She looked at Draco's face and a feeling of terror engulfed her. He was staring down at her with a fire in his eyes, his mouth quivering with anger as he looked upon her. He pointed a shaking finger at her and creased his brows. The shaking appeared to be from anger, rather than an after-effect of the curse.

"You filthy mudblood!" he bellowed. "You _did_ lie to the Dark Lord- _That_, I already know. How did you do it?"

She stared at him, a defiant look in her eyes. It didn't matter what he did to her next. She was not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid.

"You're pathetic." He sneered at her. He pursed his lips and made a disgusting noise with his throat, then arched his neck upwards and spat directly at her face. She felt it hit her above her right eye, reaching its mark with a sickening splat. The revolting sensation of his bile running over her brow and onto her eyelid made her stomach churn. She kept a strong, straight face, refusing to give in to her urge to cry.

He cackled at her for a moment before moving again. He stepped forward, bringing his nose within inches of her own. He was close enough now for her to smell his hot, rancid breath on her cheek. She fought her desire to turn away. Any sign of weakness now, and her entire façade would crumble.

"You are going to pay for forcing the Dark Lord to punish me." He hissed. He drew his wand from within his robes and left it at his side for several seconds, hoping to see a flicker of fear in her eyes. When none came, he raised his wand to within inches of her head and said "Cr-"

"No, Draco" Snape interrupted, grabbing the boy's wand arm from behind and twisting Draco towards him. "She is mine. You will leave her punishments to me."

A faint smile appeared on Draco's face. He turned back to Hermione and grinned at her wickedly. "Excellent." He seethed. "You think you know what pain is?" He cackled. "You will be _wishing_ for death to take you, once _he _is done with you!"

Draco turned from her and stalked to the far side of the room, the same knowing grin still plastered on his face. With a shot of floo powder in the fireplace, he was gone, leaving Snape and Hermione alone once more.

She looked at Snape's solid face, searching for any sign of emotion. She thought she knew who he was, and where his loyalties lied. But, now, she just couldn't be sure…

He walked hurriedly towards her, wand raised in front of him, and stopped at her feet. She felt a fearful shiver run down her spine as she waited to see what he would do next. He reached into his robes and pulled out the same blue bag that he had extracted the sparkling powder from, and opened the tie that bound the satchel shut. He extracted a tiny round bottle, seemingly filled with orange liquid. After dusting the container off beforehand, he tapped the bottle with his wand and stated "diffindo." Instantly the top half of the bottle evaporated, leaving just a small circular basin housing the stilled liquid.

"Drink." He stated assertively.

He lifted the miniscule bowl to her lips. She heard her mind protest the action. She knew the potion would put her to sleep, and she wanted to stay awake, to know what was going to happen to her, to be assured that she was going to remain safe. She wasn't sure if she still trusted the man before her. She looked desperately in his direction, hoping to catch his eyes.

When he refused to meet her gaze, she said "Sir… please…"

The words caused him to raise his face to meet her gaze now. Tears welled in her eyes as she stood there, staring at Snape's dark orbs, delaying the inevitable.

"Drink, Hermione." He stated softly.

Something about his tone of voice reassured her. With a small, sensitive sniff, she drank in the liquid he was forcing to her mouth. She wavered wearily in front of him, arms still bound to her sides, before falling forward against his chest. She felt him lower her gently to the floor and say "finite incarcerous," effectively removing the invisible chains from her body. Darkness closed in around her as her mind began to still, consciousness threatening to leave her.

With her last bit of lucidity she felt a strong set of arms lift her into the air. She opened her eyes to see Snape's gaze upon her, before slipping into unconsciousness once more.


	6. Chapter Five: Hermione's Task

**Chapter Five: Hermione's Task**

"She's _fine_, Miss Weasley. I assure you it was only a sleeping draught. She will awaken any time now."

The older, female voice was coming from somewhere around her. She was still groggy from the potion she had ingested, and felt too weak to open her eyes to the noises just yet.

"I don't _care_, Professor! Wake her up! I want to know what that _scum_ did to her!"

Now that voice, she recognized instantly.

"Ginny?" she groaned weakly.

She finally opened her eyes to see Professor McGongall and Ginny standing over her. She was lying in a bed, although it did not look like any of the ones she remembered from the Hogwart's hospital wing. It certainly did not look like the one she had slept in at Snape's house. She tilted her head to the side in an effort to get a better idea of where she was. The walls were not warm and welcoming, as the usual Hogwart's bedrooms were. They appeared to be made of plain gray cement, and stretched cold and simple across all four of the walls surrounding her. The ceiling, incredibly, looked to be made of cement as well. The only light in the room came from the protruding fireplace in the far right corner opposite the entryway, and a single round light situated in the ceiling above her. She raised her eyes to look for any windows, but there were none.

Consciousness was returning to her now at a steady rate, and the people and objects around her were coming into view more clearly. She raised her eyes to Professor McGongall, and waited for her to speak.

"How do you feel, Miss Granger?"

She felt tired, and weak, and confused. "Fine…" she answered in spite of her true feelings. She lay there for several seconds, regaining her train of thought before she continued. "Where am I?"

"You are at Hogwarts, dear. You will be safe here." McGongall told her reassuringly.

This room did not look like any bedroom she had visited while in the castle of Hogwarts. It was far too cold, and far too empty to belong to the school that she knew so well. She lifted her head and looked through the open door to her right, viewing the contents of the next room as best she could. By the small area that she could see, the adjacent room appeared to be just as plain as the one she was in. The walls were clearly plain cement, but there was a bookcase against the far side of the room. As far as she could tell, the shelves appeared to span the entire length of the wall they were situated upon. There was a plain wooden table in the middle of the room. It held several glass viles and a large cauldr-

"I'm in the dungeons?" she gasped loudly, causing McGongall and Ginny to jump at the sudden noise.

Minerva and Ginny looked at each other incredulously for a moment, before both turning their gazes back to Hermione. Ginny made to speak, but McGongall raised the back of her hand in front of her, signaling for her to wait.

"You are in the dungeons, Hermione, because you are not supposed to be a free woman." McGongall paused before continuing with her information. "Lord Voldemort has allowed you to leave his lair, twice, under Severus' supervision. You are not supposed to be roaming about Hogwarts, Hermione. You have seen and heard too much."

She realized that her former Professor was right. If Voldemort received news of her walking freely about the castle of Hogwarts, or anywhere else for that matter, she would be putting herself, and Snape, in danger.

"Besides," Ginny picked up, eyes alight with what Hermione could only fathom to be excitement. "We've got a project for you."

She looked at Ginny with an arched brow. "What _sort_ of project?"

Ginny and McGongall exchanged smirks before looking back to Hermione and straightening themselves up to the sides of her bed. She looked McGongall square in the eyes and paused for her answer.

McGongall looked at her with a thin-lipped grin before asking her question:

"Are you ready for a challenge?"

………………………………………

Hermione had been doing nothing but reading and sleeping for three straight weeks. Her work was involved and exhausting, but it would be well worth it in the end.

After reassuring Ginny that she was absolutely fine after her encounter with Voldemort (leaving out the part about the Cruciatus curse…), Mcgongall filled her in on the recent discoveries of the Order of the Phoenix. According to Snape, Voldemort had kidnapped Mr. Ollivander from his own Wand Shop shortly after the beginning of the Second War. Voldemort had been using the wizard to invent a new and more powerful wand for himself, and, recently, he had succeeded.

Voldemort's new wand posed several problems to the Order of the Phoenix. Firstly, the new wand was no longer a brother wand to Harry's. This meant that Priori Incantatem, a display in sequence of the last spells of the wands' casts, would no longer be in effect. Consequently, Lord Voldemort could now use his wand to destroy Harry, even if Harry was casting a spell at the same time.

Secondly, the new wand was yet to be identified. The contents of the wand itself, including the core, were completely unknown to the Order. The core could be made of something powerful like phoenix feathers, or unpredictable like Veela hair. Either way, the results would not be favorable.

The third and most serious problem that Voldemort's new wand posed for the Order was that it was made by Ollivander himself. There were only nine certified wand makers in the entire wizarding world. Ollivander was the only one around for nearly three thousand miles. With him gone, and under Voldemort's control, there was no telling what kind of dark magic would go into wands of the future.

McGongall had informed Hermione that she was to stay at Hogwarts in Snape's old quarters, which were directly connected to rooms of the dungeons. This would give her sole access to the potions lab, the student and faculty ingredient stores, and Snape's own private potions and spells library.

Although she felt awkward at first, living in Snape's old rooms, she quickly came to regard them as quite comfortable. They were constantly dark, seeing as there were no windows in the deep caverns of the dungeons, and so she was free to sleep and wake as it suited her instead of as the sun dictated. The layout of the dungeons was terribly convenient, being that all five of her rooms, including her sleeping quarters, were directly connected to one another.

The colors were easy enough to fix. With a few simple spells, she had transformed the dull, Slytherin-themed dungeon to a brilliant, maroon and gold tribute to the House of Gryffindor.

Her task, as she was informed, was to find out everything that she could about the art of wand making. She was to research and document why one particular wood would be used over another, which cores were known to be powerful and which were ones were volatile, and so on, and so forth. She had already found over twelve hundred pages of information on wand shafts alone, so her task was looking to become a rather long, and certainly elaborate one at that. Once she was finished with her research, she was to go as far as she found to be possible in the construction of the new wand. When the entire wand was completed and proven to be operational, the order would use it against Lord Voldemort to divert him from Harry, allowing him to successfully vanquish the overlord once and for all.

She found her most major inconvenience to be that she could not, under any circumstances, leave the dungeons. If she needed food, she would have to call for a house elf to bring it to her. This was particularly hard for her to do, as she still had not given up her ideals involving S.P.E.W., the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, but she did what she had to. As a compromise, she tried extra hard to keep her quarters and laboratory clean, so as to lessen the load of the house elves assigned to her section of the castle.

If she sought company, which she had yet to do seeing as she had been so busy, she was to use the floo network or send a message with a house elf to its intended recipient. Twice, Ginny had come to see her between missions for the order, each time leaving in a huff because Hermione had her_ 'nose in a book'_ and was '_not paying attention'_ to her.

When she had read and taken notes for so many hours that she felt she would collapse from exhaustion, she would retire to her bed, and wake up the next morning refreshed and ready to continue her research for another day.

Everything seemed to be going rather well, aside from the fact that the Order was still unable to discover what the core of Voldemort's new wand was made of. They had, however, managed to figure out the properties of the wand casing. Voldemort had used the imperius curse on several muggles that were later executed by one of his Death Eaters. What Voldemort did not know was that a small muggle child had seen the whole event from a hidden location. Using Legillimency, the Order was able to view the wand from the child's memory, and ascertain the outer makings of the device. The new wand was found to be balsa wood, ten and one half inches, with an unknown core. The casing was a little unsettling.

Balsa trees grow naturally in the humid rain forests of Central and South America. The wood is unnaturally light, but amazingly strong. The flexibility of the wood has made it an ideal substance for muggles to use as a building material for airplanes. The strong yet flexible wood was definitely capable of handling whatever core it held inside… the only question was, what kind of core was it?

It was her twentieth straight day of researching wands. She had discovered the basic principles behind wand building, and had outlined them accordingly:

a)**Hone the chosen wood** using a whittling spell

b)**Hollow the center of the wood** with a narflux needle (a long, thin piece of string that is enchanted to a point and pulls itself through the center of an object, namely a piece of wood, leaving a hollow center in its wake)

c)**Cure the wand core** (a complicated form of magic where the chosen core is prepared in boiling-fashion while submerged in a potion of various magical ingredients)

d)**Activate the wand** (using a complicated spell that is known only to certified Wand Makers and their apprentices)

The next logical step after research was to prepare a base for the wand, which would require several materials that she did not yet possess. Earlier that day she had sent owls to Professor McGongall for the narflux needle, Professor Sprout for the balsa wood and Madam Pince for a copy of _Complex Carpentry Spells and Their Uses_.

She took a seat behind her former Potions professor's desk and waited for a response to her requests. It was all falling into place now. All she needed to do was create the base casing for the wand, and the Order would take it from there. It felt good to be doing something of value for the Order, as opposed to being stuck in a house, learning occlumency from Snape. She felt a twinge of guilt as the thought of him crept into her mind. He had risked a lot for her over the past fourteen months, and she had been able to do nothing to repay his goodwill. If she had just been able to say goodbye, maybe she could have found some way, some small act, that she would have been able to perform to ease the anguish of his discordant lifestyle. As it happened, he had saved her life, and she had woken in Hogwarts with no chance to thank the man that had spared her the torture and anguish that would have been her fate.

She was pulled from her thoughts of Snape by the sound of persistent tapping on her chamber door. She rose from her seat and walked to the far side of the room, opening the door with anticipation of what she knew would lay on the other side. To her surprise, a beautiful, snow-white owl with deep green eyes flew into the room, and landed squarely on her left shoulder.

"Hedwig!" she grinned. "What are you doing here?"

She lifted her hand to pet the snowy owl on the back of the neck and the bird nipped her finger affectionately. Hedwig held out her left leg at an awkward but steady angle in anticipation of unburdening the parchment that was attached above her talons. Hermione walked through the classroom and into her private quarters, unraveling the scroll as she went. When she arrived at her dresser she opened the top right drawer and pulled out a bag of owl treats, handing one to Hedwig before replacing the bag into its former spot. She lifted Hedwig gently off her shoulder and placed her on the front pole of the four-poster, then proceeded to take a seat on the edge of her bed to read the letter now sitting openly in her lap.

The letter was oddly written. There was no greeting, subject or salutation, only a short note scrolled without the sender's name or its intended recipient. She would obviously have figured out who it was from, seeing as she knew Hedwig quite well by now, but the outline of the letter still looked strange to her eyes:

_**Professor McGongall has told me that you are making great strides with the new object. We have just found out what the key ingredient will be. I will be arriving back at Hogwarts this afternoon. See you then.**_

Codes. Clearly Harry did not feel it was safe to discuss her endeavors by owl. He was probably right.

The thought of seeing Harry again after so many months apart brought a smile to her face. She would finally be able to ask him the questions that she had been harboring for over a year since the last time she spoke with him. The horcrux hunt, although always at the back of her mind, had nearly left her thoughts completely. It would be wonderful to find out exactly where he was in his quest, and if there was anything more she could do to help him.

Just as that last thought crossed her mind, a second owl entered her quarters through the open door of the classroom. She frowned at her careless behavior, having left the door open for anybody at all to enter at their leisure. She rose quickly and jogged lightly past her quarters and through the adjoining classroom, passing the new owl as she went. She shut the door tightly and returned to her bedroom to find the new owl settled happily on the four poster next to Hedwig.

Hedwig, on the other hand, seemed deeply displeased at her newfound partner. Hermione chuckled at Hedwig and removed the roll of parchment from the new owl, unraveling it as she reached in to the dresser for more owl treats. She handed one to each of the birds and replaced the bag, reading the newest scroll as she did so. This one, as it came from within the school and had no chance of being intercepted, was much more detailed than the last:

_**Hermione, **_

_**I believe Professor Snape kept a narflux needle in the back of his stores closet. You will find it in a large metal box on the bottom-most shelf on the left side of the cupboard. Madam Pince and Professor Sprout have informed me of their 'anonymous' requests for two very specific, not oft requested items. I have told them to send the items directly to me. I will be forwarding them on to you as soon as they are in my possession. In case you have not already received word, Harry has discovered the makings of the core of You-Know-Who's wand. I cannot deny my disappointment with the difficult nature of the item, but I am sure that Harry will inform you further upon his arrival. Be sure to contact me if you need any further assistance with this matter, or the materials pertaining to it. **_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Minerva McGongall**_

_**Headmistress**_

"Difficult nature?" she breathed aloud. That certainly did not sound good.

"How difficult could a wand core be?" she said to herself.

She jumped as someone in her supposedly-empty room answered her rhetorical question:

"More difficult than you might think."

She looked up from her letter and was instantly delighted to see the form of Harry Potter standing in front of her.

"Harry!" she screamed, as she jumped from her bed and into his arms. She wrapped her fingers around his neck and squeezed him tightly, relieved to once again be in the company of her lifelong friend.

"Well hello to you too, Hermione." He chuckled. "How've you been, then? You alright?"

She smiled up at him with warmth in her eyes. "I've been spectacular, Harry. Back to normal, at least." She added, while waiving an open hand around the room to show him the ridiculous array of books spread about her personal quarters.

"I can see that." He smiled at her, placing his shimmering cloak on the edge of her desk.

"Well?" she started. "Get on with it, then. What's the big news?"

He raised a brow and looked down at her incredulously before answering. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

She simply stood there, hands on her hips, eyebrow arched, waiting for Harry to answer her question.

"No." He said plainly. "You first. I want to know how you've been."

She smiled brightly at her friend. He was always concerned for her well being.

"I'm _fine_, Harry… really!" she added when she saw the skeptical look on his face. "I don't even remember the first thirteen months that I was… well…" she let her gaze drop down to her feet as she shuffled them lightly.

"It's ok, Hermione. McGongall told me."

She looked up at her friend as she worked to prevent tears from forming in her eyes. "He… He used…"

"I know." He interrupted her. "McGongall told me. It's alright, Hermione. You're safe now."

She looked up at him with a questioning look in her eyes. "How did you…"

"McGongall told me." He answered plainly.

"But I never told her-" she broke off as she realized what must have happened. Snape had obviously, in his concern for her welfare, told Professor McGongall about Voldemort using the cruciatus curse on her. She wondered what else he may have told her…

"Well, let's sit down. I've got quite a bit to share with you, and I don't think you're going to like it." He finally broke the silence.

He took the lead and turned on his heel to walk towards the doorway. He led her through to Snape's former office and took a seat on the Professor's side of the desk, motioning with an open palm for Hermione to take the seat opposite.

"We've found out what the core of the wand is." He stated plainly as she took her seat.

"I know! That's wonderful, Harry! So where do we find it?" she asked excitedly.

He folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them briefly, apparently deciding on what to say to her. "There's a problem, Hermione. The core that Voldemort is using… has never been used before. I don't think anyone's ever even _thought _of using it. Obtaining it would require either a miracle, or…" his voice trailed off as he neared the end of his statement. Whatever it was that he needed to tell her, he obviously did not like saying it aloud.

"Or _what_, Harry?"

He gazed straight into her eyes before answering. "Murder."

She gasped a sharp intake of breath and clapped her hand over her mouth. "Murder?" she muttered under her palm.

She thought about the situation for a moment, still aghast at the lengths Voldemort had taken to gain a new wand core. When her mind caught up with her, she spoke again.

"What is the core?"

He looked away from her for a moment, then back at her with a weary look in his eyes. "Centaur hair. And not just any. It was from a foal."

She felt her stomach lurch at the thought. "A foal? He killed a child? Just to get a hair for his stupid wand! Why couldn't he just have _taken_ it? Why did he have to _kill_ it?"

Harry, too, held a look that showed he was aggrieved at the idea of killing something so young for no reason. "You can't just take a tail hair from a centaur, Hermione. It has to be given willingly. Otherwise, it loses its magic."

She nodded, now remembering what she had learned about centaurs in her Care of Magical Creatures classes in her third year.

"What's dead to the centaur, is dead to the world. He…" he paused for a moment before continuing, his voice becoming dry and hindered as he did so. "He tortured her, Hermione." He looked down at his hands again, steadying his gaze on anywhere other than the eyes of the woman before him. "He tortured the little thing into giving him the hair willingly. When he was done, he burned the body, so that no one would ever be able to use the same foal's magic again."

Tears were welling in her eyes now. All she could think of was the poor little creature that was killed so that something as trivial as a piece of its hair could be used for Voldemort's personal gain.

"It's over, then." She stated matter-of-factly. "He's d-disposed of the body. There's nothing more we can do. All this work…" her breath hitched in her throat. "All this work has been for nothing."

"No, you're wrong. It hasn't been for nothing. There's another way, Hermione."

She looked up at Harry with questioning eyes. "What do you mean, another way? You said he burned the body?"

He looked at her with a mixture of hope and determination on his face. "She was a twin, Hermione. An… identical twin."

She sat for a moment, staring at her hands in her lap and pondering his statement. It was _technically _possible, to have identical magic in identical beings. Centaurs, however, were not really her forte.

"Are you sure that the magic from the other foal will perform the same way? I mean, there really isn't much literature on centaurs… I'm not so sure that we should trust whatever you have read." She looked up at him inquisitively, hoping for a confident answer to her question.

"I haven't read anything." He stated plainly.

She looked at him skeptically, trying to hold back her disappointment, but failing dismally. She scoffed at him, "Harry, I don't know much about centaurs. I really don't think that-"

He interrupted her mid-sentence, much to her chagrin. "I haven't had to read anything, because I've already spoken with a centaur. He assures me that this _will_ work. We just need to find a way to get the twin centaur to give us her tail hair willingly. That's where you come in, Hermione."

"Me?" she screeched as her mouth fell open and her brows arched in an unbelieving gesture. "What am I supposed to do about this? And how, precisely, do you expect to even go _near_ the centaur herd. We are not underage anymore, Harry. We've been warned to stay out of the forest. We were lucky they even let us go last time. If they catch us there again…" her voice trailed off.

"They won't be _catching_ us at anything. We're going to be accompanied. We'll be with Firenze."

'_Firenze?'_

"He's banished, Harry." She said solemnly. "He can't go back to the forest. They-" she tucked her knees up on her chair, pulling them tight into her body, and holding them steady by wrapping her arms around her shins. She laid her chin on her knees and looked at Harry intently for a moment before continuing her thought. "They will kill him, Harry. We can't let that happen."

"He knows that, Hermione. He said that they are in mourning for the foal. They will not harm him until their time of lament is over. If the foal is at all intimidated by Firenze or me, you can calm her down… She'll be more comfortable speaking to a woman, after all. But it _has_ to be during their time of lament. That is why it is so important that we go. Tonight."

"Tonight?" she gasped, letting one of her legs drop from under her arms and back into a seated position on her chair. "We can't possibly- We don't- Harry this is crazy! We are not prepared to venture into the forbidden forest so soon… especially not at night!"

She recalled all of their last trips into the forest. None of them had been exactly pleasurable. Ron and Harry had been nearly killed by acromantulas at one point. During a separate venture into the forest, Harry was nearly killed by Lord Voldemort. And last, but certainly not least, she and Harry had been nearly killed by the very same centaur herd that they were talking about meeting this very night. The forest, it would seem, is not their friend.

Harry stared down at the floor, shuffling his right foot back and forth with feigned interest. "We have to Hermione. Their time of lament ends at dawn. It's tonight… or never. We can't let Voldemort win, Hermione."

"You're right." She replied, placing her right palm on top of his left hand, stroking the soft skin on the back of it with her thumb. "We will go tonight."

He beamed up at her with renewed hope in his eyes, flipping his hand around to take hers in his own, and staring appraisingly back at her. "Thank you."

If there was anything that she could do for the Order, even something as dangerous as the mission that she was now facing, she would do it. It was a risky mission, that much was certain, but it had to be done. Once she had the centaur hair, she could work on curing the wand core, placing the Order one step closer to defeating Voldemort. She felt her stomach churn slightly at the simple thought of him. He had tortured a pure, innocent creature for a single piece of hair. He had to be stopped, and if she could help in any way, she would certainly do her best.

"Alright." She said, jumping to her feet and pulling him up with her. "What do we do now?"


	7. Chapter Six: The Forbidden Forest

**Chapter Six: The Forbidden Forest**

As the three of them trudged on through the thick brush, she could not help feeling that the walk seemed much shorter the last time she had come here. They had already been walking for nearly fifteen minutes, and they seemed no closer to their destination than they had when they first entered the forest. Night had taken over hours before, leaving them in a resolute darkness with only the lights from their wands to lead the way. The evening was cool, but tolerable. There was no wind in the forest, only the soft hooting of owls and the sharp chirping of crickets in the dark. As they reached an opening in the trees, a soft light was visible in the distance.

"There." Firenze said sharply, pointing at the radiance in front of them. "They will have sensed our presence by now. Keep walking."

She and Harry did as they were told, traipsing along the sodden ground with caution as they encroached upon the clearing ahead of them.

"Firenze." Came a voice from seemingly out of nowhere. "What are you doing back here?"

"It is good to see you, too, Magorian." Firenze answered him.

"I will ask you again, Firenze, what are you doing here?" Magorian stated with a mild anger seeping through his voice.

"We need your help." Firenze answered.

"Ha! Our help? You need _our_ help? You desert our herd to make friends with these… _humans_… and you think that we are indebted to help _you_?" Magorian came into view now, his dark hair falling gently upon his shoulders, his broad chest glimmering in the wand light.

"No, Magorian." Firenze started. "I need _your_ help. And you will help me. You have no choice."

Magorian was glaring at Firenze through narrowed eyes. His eyelids were contorted into slender slits, his brow furrowed, as he drew a deep breath before answering his fellow centaur. "I do not know what you mean."

Firenze took three long, slow steps towards Magorian. He stopped just short of the other centaur's body, close enough to feel its breath on his face. "Your life debt, Magorian. I am calling it in. You will help me, whether you want to or not."

Magorian was positively steaming at this point. His fists were clenched into strained balls, his eyes remained narrow and pointed, his chest heaving in and out with each deep, gulping breath. He broke his gaze from Firenze and stared down at the witch and wizard before him. With a wave of his hand in their direction, he asked "And what are _they_ doing here?"

Firenze relaxed slightly at the change of subject, although he kept his gaze on Magorian as he answered. "They are with me. They are the reason I am here. It is for them that I am calling in your debt."

Magorian flinched slightly at the second mention of the mysterious debt. He glanced briefly once more at the two humans, then returned his gaze to Firenze. His lips contorted into a faint smile as he spoke. "I should have known you would be willing to waste something this valuable on _their_ kind. You have always been soft, Firenze. You truly are a fool."

Firenze seemed unaffected by this statement, standing his ground and staring expressionlessly at his fellow centaur.

"Come." Magorian commanded.

Firenze looked down at the two next to him, flipping his neck onward in a direction for them to follow. They walked cautiously beside him, wands held steadily in front of them until they reached the light of the clearing up ahead.

There were at least fifty centaurs gathered round an enormous fire pit. The flames rose bright pink into the sky, though there was no sign of any wood flaming their roots. Hermione felt herself shiver slightly at the sight of nearly one hundred eyes staring ominously at her. They walked in front of the herd in a half-circle, stopping at the entrance to what looked to be a deep cave.

She looked into the cave with curiosity and was startled at the brightness of the space within. There was no apparent source of light, only a general glow that boomed throughout the cave as though a bomb of light had exploded in the middle of it. In the center of the cave was a faint yellow luminosity emanating from the ghostly form of a horse-shaped figure lying motionless on the floor. She leaned in closer and took in a sharp, horrified breath as the figure before her took shape in front of her eyes. It was a ghostly figure of the fallen centaur foal. The glowing image of her body was at the bottom of the cave, lying as still and as lifeless as in the moments before she had passed on.

"Is that…" she trailed off, looking upwardly at Firenze for some sort of confirmation to her partially-asked question.

He nodded once in her direction, confirming her fears as she felt her heart melt into her chest. As though sensing her sadness, he looked in her direction, although not into her eyes, and informed her further. "Her spirit, Hermione. They have been mourning it for days now. At the stroke of dawn it will disappear forever, and, with its departure, she will find peace."

Tears were welling in her eyes once more. The foal could not have been more than five or six years old. Anger coursed through her veins but was halted by her grief before it had a chance to surface. She felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulder and pull her sideways, the attached hand now rubbing her shoulder in a comforting fashion. "Oh, Harry…" she sighed quietly, leaning into him from the side.

She unconsciously reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, white handkerchief. She had brought it halfway to her eyes before she realized it was the same one that Snape had given her when they were having breakfast so many days ago. She felt her cheek quiver upward at the comforting thought, and brought the small cloth to her face to dry her tears.

She pocketed the cloth tissue and brought her gaze back up to the two centaurs before her, waiting for one of them to speak. Before they got the chance, a massive, black-haired centaur approached the two in front of her, an aggressive and stale look in his eyes. She recognized him instantly as Bane.

Bane made to speak but Magorian silenced him with the raising of his hand, motioning for him to stay his ground. "Firenze has called in my debt, Bane. We will allow him solace here, for the time being, and will listen to what he has to say."

Bane looked outraged at the statement, but stood in silence none the less. His gaze switched to Harry and Hermione, and stayed there throughout much of the ensuing conversation.

"We need something from you, Magorian, that is not yours to give." Firenze stated cautiously. "A dark wizard has used centaur hair for the core of his wand. This magic has never been used in the wizarding world. Its power will be unprecedented, and unmatched. We are requesting a matching hair for a brother wand. It is destined to rival the dark wizard, and, hopefully, destroy him."

Magorian considered him for several seconds before replying. "A centaur hair has no magical use when taken forcefully, Firenze. You know that. Why are you troubling us with this nonsense?"

"It was given… willingly… or, at least, reluctantly, and will therefore make a powerful magical object." Firenze replied.

Magorian was growing impatient at this point, aggravation showing in his tone of voice. "You are the only traitor among us, Firenze. None of the other centaurs would ever give a hair to a wiz-"

"It belonged to Felice." Firenze interrupted sharply.

"LIAR!" Bane cried out at Firenze's statement. "She gave no hair to any wizard! She, unlike you, knows the code of the centaurs! We serve our own, and do not meddle in the destinies of human kind!"

Bane was breathing rapidly, stomping one foot on the ground every few seconds, seemingly holding back his urge to charge at Firenze with every fiber of his being.

Firenze looked on at him with what could only be seen as compassion. "She was tortured, Bane. She gave it only in the end, and only when faced with death. Her efforts were in vain. He meant to kill her from the beginning, whether she gave him what he wanted or not."

Bane stopped slamming his hoof into the forest bed. Tears were welling in the mighty centaurs' eyes, his lip quivering slightly at Firenze's statement. "No… It is not… it is not true. She was not… she…" He looked up at Magorian, hoping to find a reasonable answer in the elder centaur's eyes.

Magorian turned his body around to face Bane and clapped a consoling hand on his shoulder. "It is true, my friend."

Bane looked like a truck had hit him full force. His breathing slowed and his shoulders slumped forward. The pain in his eyes could have been seen from a hundred feet away. He looked simply defeated.

"We need your help, Bane." Firenze stated, moving his gaze from Magorian to Bane. "We need you to ask Thelia to give us one of her hairs… willingly."

Bane's melancholy look quickly changed back to a raging anger as he whipped his head upwards and gazed intently at Firenze. "What?" He started moving slowly toward Firenze, hooves hitting the ground with unnecessary force in each step. "You expect me to give you a hair from my only living daughter, so that you and your little human friends can make a wand to rival that of the one that was made from my other daughter's death? I should kill you for even asking!"

Bane's breath was hard and shallow, his nose nearly touching Firenze's as he spoke. He stared angrily into the other centaur's eyes, daring him to make a move.

Firenze was clearly becoming agitated at this point. His own fists were balled in a defensive gesture, readying himself to strike if prompted first. The heat between the two was rising to a much unneeded level.

"It will kill him." Hermione stated plainly, taking a courageous step forward towards Bane.

"What?" Bane asked, darting his face in a downward motion at the girl standing to his right.

"Priori Incantatem." She continued. "If we have a hair from the same centaur, or, in this case, her twin, we can use the new wand to stall Voldemort." She was surprised at her newfound ability to say Voldemort's name aloud without stuttering. "We are going to use it to occupy him. Then, Harry is going to finish him off."

Bane's gaze moved from her to Harry, his eyes widening in anticipation of his coming question. "You intend to kill him? Not to imprison him, but to remove him forever from this world?"

"Yes." Harry stated bluntly.

Bane stood for a moment, questioning Harry with his eyes, trying to figure out if the wizard was telling the truth about his ambitions. Apparently satisfied that he was, he broke his gaze free from Harry and stared off into the surrounding herd, searching for someone in particular.

"Genesis." He said, beckoning someone forward to his location.

A beautiful female centaur appeared next to him. She had long, silky black hair and blazing violet eyes. Her features were soft and fair, her darkened eyelashes extending all the way up to her perfectly-shaped brows. She was wearing nothing but a soft, while camisole on her upper body, her collarbone showing through the large opening around her neck. She placed a small hand on Bane's shoulder, keeping her gaze on the two humans in front of her.

"Yes?" she stated to Bane, holding her gaze on the witch and wizard.

"Go fetch Thelia. Tell her I need to speak with her."

Genesis trotted off in the opposite direction, hair flowing angelically behind her as she did so. Bane strode slowly over to the cave behind Firenze, and muttered a spell that was spoken too softly for Hermione to hear. The light of the cave went out just as Genesis and Thelia approached the opening, allowing Bane just enough time to turn and face his wife and daughter before the younger of two noticed where she was standing.

"Thelia." Bane said in a hushed voice, before placing a chaste kiss on her right cheek.

"Yes, father?" the beautiful young centaur questioned in reply, her features strikingly similar to her mother's.

"These are friends of the herd." He motioned towards Harry and Hermione. "They need something from you. I know you have been taught that your magic is your own, and must be kept to our kind. Circumstances have changed, Thelia. I cannot force you to do anything that you do not wish to do. Just know, that by your gift, Felice's death would be avenged. Her sacrifice would be made whole by your contribution."

Thelia's eyes were swimming with tears at her father's words. Her emotions were streaking down her small, smooth face, disappearing as if by magic before they reached her chin.

Bane looked at his daughter and shut his eyes tightly, opening them again before continuing. "They would like you to give them a hair from your tail. Your magic would be used in a wizarding wand. It would be made to destroy the human that took your sister's life."

Without taking any time at all to consider the matter, Thelia turned her body round to face her mother. With her tail presented firmly in front of her father, she breathed "it's yours."

Bane looked at Hermione, nodding his affirmation to her. She raised her wand to the tail of the young centaur in front of her and stated clearly "diffindo singularis." Instantly a long, thick strand of hair separated itself from Thelia's backside, floating briefly in the air and then wrapping itself tightly around Hermione's wrist before tying itself in a tight bow.

Bane looked at Harry through narrowed eyes yet again, staring intently at him. "Remember your promise, young wizard. I expect my daughter's death to be made whole by your actions."

Harry did not answer Bane, only nodded in his direction. Bane glanced briefly at Firenze before walking away from the gathering, wife and daughter in tow.

Magorian took Bane's place in his former location and looked to the two humans next to him before training his gaze back at Firenze. "You have what you came for, Firenze. I have allowed you safe passage here while you obtained the object of your desire. Your objective has been reached. You have no further business here."

With that, Magorian stepped aside, indicating for Firenze to leave their circle. The three walked in silence the rest of the way to the castle, a mixed feeling of guilt and triumph weighing heavily in their hearts.


	8. Chapter Seven: Reunion

**Chapter Seven: Reunion**

"Three… long… wasted… days!" she yelled, throwing her cauldron to the ground, spilling its liquid ingredients all over the cement floor.

Frustrated beyond belief, she took a seat on one of the student desks and rubbed her temples lightly with her index and middle fingers.

She had been attempting to brew the wand core solution for seventy-two hours straight. She had not slept. She had not eaten. She had not taken any breaks. Harry had been down to see her twice, each time telling her to get some rest, and that she would feel better after a quick nap. She knew he was right, but the project was too important to put on the back burner- even for sleep.

The base for the wand was ridiculously easy. She had managed to forge that part of the experiment in under two hours. The potion, however, had proven to be even more difficult than she had imagined. The ingredients had to be added at precisely the right time, stirred in the right direction, simmered at the right temperature, and bottled before air could hit them. It had been proving nearly impossible. The potion itself was supposed to take sixty-four hours from start to finish. She had ruined her first batch so badly that she decided to start over, eight hours into the process. Now she had wasted a total of seventy-two hours of her time. The end result was nowhere near what it was supposed to look like. The potion that was supposed to emit a soft, blue light, shone a deep, bright purple instead. The scent was supposed to remind the brewer of sea lavender, but instead it smelled more like poached eggs. She placed her elbows on her knees and her head in her open hands, sighing a deep, defeated breath.

"Evanesco." She heard someone say from behind her.

She turned her head to see the patient face of Professor McGongall smiling down at her. The headmistress had cleaned up the watery, purple mess that she had made on the floor.

"Potion troubles, Hermione?" she asked kindly.

"I just can't do it, Professor. This potion is so… infuriatingly complicated. Even after following the book's directions step by step, the potion still came out ghastly. I honestly don't think that I can complete this on my own." She struggled.

McGongall took a seat beside her on the desk and matched her gaze to the floor. "It is an extremely difficult potion, Hermione. I thought that, in the end, you might need some help with brewing it. You can discuss your concerns with the others at the Order meeting this evening."

Hermione looked up at the elder witch questioningly at first, but her expression quickly moved to one of excitement. She was positively enthralled at the idea of not only leaving the dungeons of Hogwarts, but also at seeing her old friends and professors together in one place again. "There is a meeting? Tonight? And I can attend?"

"Yes," Minerva started, "but only if you get some rest immediately. I will not have you fainting in the middle of an Order meeting. Am I understood?"

Hermione beamed up at her, more than ready to oblige the headmistress by sleeping before the meeting. "Absolutely, Professor!"

"Hermione, I have told you time and time again, that you are to call me Minerva. You are an adult now."

She blushed slightly at the statement. "Sorry, Minerva."

"No matter." McGongall stated indifferently. "You will get used to it, eventually. Now, get some rest. I will send Ginny to wake you before the meeting."

With that, McGongall walked over to the fireplace, threw some floo powder into the flames, and called "Headmistress' Office!" In a flash, she was gone.

Hermione stood up from the desk and made her way towards her bedroom. She was utterly exhausted. She removed her robes and laid them on the nightstand beside her bed. After removing a deep red dressing gown from her wardrobe, and pulling it over her head and onto her body, she slipped into bed under the maroon and gold covers. The minute her head hit the pillow, she fell instantly to sleep.

…………………..

"Hermione…"

"_Hermione…_"

"Hermione!"

She rolled over from her stomach to her back and looked up at the voice that was calling to her. The bright red hair came into focus through her sleep-clouded eyes, and she raised her head slightly to better see the person before her.

"Ronald!" she screamed, sitting up and throwing her arms around his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed her tightly to him, causing a groan of air to escape her lips with the pressure.

"Ron, how are you? How have you been? You aren't _hurt_, are you?" she sputtered.

He laughed at her outburst of questions. "No, no, 'Mione, I'm fine. How have you been?"

"Busy" she stated flatly. "I've been working on this bloody wand for almost a month now. It's completely taxing."

He smiled a thin-lipped smile at her and placed her hand in his. "And… before?"

Her stomach dropped. She did not want to discuss what had happened to her at Voldemort's lair… "I don't know what you mean." She told him, looking down at their intermingled hands.

"Were you hurt?" he asked insistently.

"No." She considered leaving the next part out, not wanting to worry him. If Harry had already told him, however, it would seem like she was lying. She decided to bit the bullet and discuss the matter. "He used the cruciatus curse on me, once… but that was it. I was well protected."

He placed his thumb and index finger under her chin, pushing her face upwards to meet his gaze. "We want to know, Hermione. Harry and Ginny and I. Were you hurt?"

"Honestly, Ron." She persisted. "It was just that one time. The rest of the time I was unconscious, or at Snape's house. I was safe."

A relieved smile formed on his face at her words. "Right, then. You ready for the meeting?"

She laughed lightly. "No, not really… I haven't exactly bathed in a few days…"

Ron pinched his nose and waved a hand in front of his face in a '_you stink'_ motion. Hermione responded to his sarcasm by tossing a pillow at his head.

She hopped out of bed, leaving Ron behind to wait for her, and proceeded across the room and into her bathroom. After a quick, painfully hot shower, she dressed in the wash room and opened the door to meet Ron.

"Ruddy women" he smiled. "Always making you late for _everything_."

She scowled at his comment. "You know that is not true. You used to take longer on _your_ hair than I did on _my own_."

"Yeah," he began, "but that was only because I was trying to impress you."

She laughed, remembering the short-lived childhood romance that they had had between them. The relationship never really went anywhere, other than a few dates and the occasional snog. In the end, they had decided that their friendship was just not worth the risk.

"Oh really?" she asked interestedly. "And who precisely are you trying to impress these days?"

The sudden drop in his smile told her that she had caught him off guard. "Erm…" was all he managed to squeak out.

"Come on, Ronald. Out with it" she insisted, walking up to him and poking him playfully in the chest with her forefinger.

"Kiddiebawl" he muttered inaudibly.

"What?" she laughed.

"Huhhhhhgggh…" he grumbled. "Katie Bell."

"Katie Bell?" she nearly yelped. "The girl who played Chaser for Gryffindor? When did you start up with her?"

"Well…" he began in an embarrassed tone of voice. "She joined the Order right after the first battle… At first, I didn't really pay much attention to her... but then she sort of… asked me out… so, you know…" He said squeamishly, looking up at her with one eye, as if shielding himself from her impending ridicule.

"_She_ asked _you_ out?" Hermione giggled.

Ron just stared at her with a slightly affronted look on his face.

"I think it's wonderful." She said flatly.

"Y'do?" he questioned unbelievingly.

"Yes, I do." She continued. "Harry has Ginny, and you have Katie, and everyone seems to be as happy as can be possible considering the circumstances. I am very happy for all of you."

"Wish I could say the same about Lavender." He said glumly, looking up at her with an exhausted look on his face.

"What about Lavender?" she answered him, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

"Well," he began, "She joined the Order around the same time as Katie. Only, when she found out that the two of us were… _you know_… she freaked out and said she was quitting. She eventually decided to stay, though. Now she just makes sure to pop up at every Order meeting and stir up as much trouble as possible between Katie and me."

Hermione laughed at his statement. "I see that _she_ has _not _changed."

"Not in the least" he agreed, clearly eager for a change of subject. "Ready for the meeting, then?"

"Absolutely!" she beamed. "I cannot _wait_ to get out of these dismal dungeons and have a proper conversation for once."

She took Ron's offered arm and linked it with her own, then walked with him over to the fireplace. He motioned for her to go first and stepped aside, allowing her access to the opening. "12 Grimmauld Place!" she stated clearly, as the usual spinning sensation took over her body.

She arrived in the fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place with a hard _thunk_. She stepped out of the brick enclosure, brushed the soot off of her clean clothes, and proceeded into the dining room.

"Hermimmonee!" she heard a familiar male voice call to her as she entered the bustling room. "It 'dis so good 'do see you!"

She turned her head to the right to see the familiar, and now much more grown up, Viktor Krum raising his arms to her in a friendly gesture.

"Viktor!" she gushed falsely, opening her arms back at him and embracing him in a welcoming hug. Just then Ron turned the corner to join her. She could have sworn she saw a glaring look in his eye at the sight of her hugging Viktor.

At the sound of Hermione's name being called, the rest of the room looked up and welcomed her to the meeting just as pleasantly.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, throwing her arms around her back. "How are you, dear? You look thin… Have you eaten? Severus!" She snapped, whipping her head around to face the far corner of the room. "I thought you said you gave her a nourishing potion! She's skin and _bones_, for Merlin's sake!"

Hermione twisted her head in the direction that Mrs. Weasley was now facing. He looked thinner than she remembered him from a month ago, and perhaps a bit paler, too. His eyes glanced fleetingly in her direction before fixing themselves back on Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, the girl has been out of my care for more than one month now. It is not my fault if Miss Granger cannot take proper care of herself." He sneered.

"I've been busy…" she directed at Molly, although still fixing her gaze on Snape.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley stated to her matter-of-factly, "You're going to eat now- whether you want to or not." "Fred, George!" she yelled in the direction of the adjoining kitchen. "Bring out the buffet, and an extra plate for Hermione! And _carry_ them! We don't want any mishaps like at the last meeting!"

Fred and George entered the room, floating the pans of food along in front of them with the locomotor charm, despite what Mrs. Weasley had just said. They placed the food cautiously on the table in front of everyone, being careful not to spill so much as a drop of gravy on the long, smooth wooden surface.

"Hullo, Hermione." Fred stated… or, maybe it was George… she had always had trouble telling the twins apart from one another. "Alright, then?" the two questioned her simultaneously.

"Lovely." Hermione told them with a giggle.

"Alright, you lot!" Mrs. Weasley announced. "Take a seat and tuck in!"

Hermione made for the far corner of the room, pulling out the chair beside Severus'. Before she could sit down, however, a hand wrapped itself under her upper arm and gently pulled her in the opposite direction.

"Sit vith me, Hermimmonee." Viktor stated clumsily.

She gazed over at Severus in hopes that he would invite her to stay where she was, but was disappointed to see that he was looking in the opposite direction.

"Alright…" she agreed hesitantly.

Viktor kept his hand on her arm and directed her to the opposite end of the table, pulling out her chair and pushing it back in for her as she sat.

She glanced around the room and took in all the wonderfully familiar faces that were seated around her. It seemed as though just about everyone in the Order was in attendance tonight. To her right was Hestia Jones, followed by Lupin, Tonks, McGongall, Hagrid, Arthur Weasley, and Fred and George Weasley. At the end of the table sat Snape, followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Fleur Delacour, Ron, Katie Bell, Charlie Weasley, Lavender Brown, Harry and Ginny. Viktor had taken the seat at the end of the table opposite Snape.

"Where's Neville?" Hermione asked Hagrid in voice loud enough to carry over the other conversations taking place around her.

Hagrid looked up at her over his overflowing plate of pot roast and mashed potatoes. "He's at Hogwart's. Couldn't get away from 'is Herbology classes. Much too busy this time 'a year, what with O.W.L.'s approachin' an' all."

"He's teaching Herbology?" she said in a disbelieving tone.

"O'course! Din' anyone tell yer anythin'?" he said through a newly-filled mouthful of mashed potatoes.

McGongall chimed in on the conversation. "Professor Sprout retired several months ago when her husband took ill. Mr. Longbottom was doing an apprenticeship with her anyways, so he has simply taken over her classes for the time being. The ministry has waived last year's N.E.W.T.'s in light of… circumstances… and will be carrying over the grades given at O.W.L. So, if at the end of term, Mr. Longbottom wishes to stay on as the permanent Herbology professor, he will be more than welcome to do so. In the meantime, Miss Lovegood has agreed to stay behind and help him with his lesson plans."

"Wait a minute…" she started. "They waived Neville's N.E.W.T.'s? Does that mean-"

"Why of course, Miss Granger!" McGongall half-yelled in an unbelieving tone of voice. "Don't tell me that neither Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, or Miss Weasley has told you that your N.E.W.T.'s have been waivered!"

She stared around the room and took in the embarrassed faces of her friends. What a thing to have been forgetful about…

"Well, Miss Granger," McGongall stated, pulling Hermione's vision back in her direction. "If that is the case, let me be the first to congratulate you. With your O.W.L. scores replacing your N.E.W.T.'s, you now have the fourth highest N.E.W.T. grades I the history of Hogwart's!"

She was at a complete loss for words. She hadn't even thought about school or grades since she had been rescued from Voldemort's lair. The possibility of a future career seemed a feeble concern compared to the war that they were all in the midst of fighting. She had to admit, though, that the idea that she would be free to pursue whichever career she wanted to, once this was all over, was quite comforting.

Hermione was also impressed with Neville's current success. He had always shown a great deal of interest in Herbology, but she never thought he would be capable of teaching the subject. She was incredibly proud of him.

"So, Hermimmonee," Viktor interrupted. "You will be comink back to Durmstrank vith me? Vee have a large collection of books on dee Dark Arts that vould help vith your project. You could leave vith me tonight."

"Erm…" Hermione was definitely taken aback. McGongall had not mentioned anything about going with Viktor to Durmstrang. Truthfully, she would rather stay in the dungeons at Hogwarts…

"She should come veeth me to Beauxbatons." Fleur piped up bluntly. "Our potions laboratory cannot be rivaled anyvere in zee vorld. She vould be better off starting zare."

McGongall held up a hand to silence the now buzzing table. After everyone had stopped speaking, she addressed the group as a whole. "Hermione is doing a fine job on her own. She will require minimal assistance with the curing potion, and, perhaps later on, in researching the activation spell. There is no reason for her to go to another school to do these things. She will be fine where she is."

McGongall gave her an almost unnoticeable wink as she finished her speech. Hermione was silently grateful for the instruction. She did not want to travel halfway across the world with Fleur to research spells and potions… and she _definitely_ did not want to spend an undetermined amount of time at Durmstrang in Viktor's company.

"Iv fyour haffink trouble win potions, why not gask pruvvssor Snep 'ggin?" Ron sputtered with a mouthful of pot roast threatening to burst from his lips as he spoke.

"What?" Katie asked him with arched brows.

"He said," Lavender stated smugly, "that Hermione should ask Professor Snape to help her with the potion."

"Yeah!" Ron said in a squeaky voice. It seemed even he could not believe that Lavender had been able to understand his severely muffled suggestion.

Katie looked slightly disgruntled at this point, as she placed her fork down on the table and gave Ron a sharp look. Ron decided his best course of action would be to stare at his plate and keep his mouth as full as humanly possible for the duration of the meal.

"I really do not think that-" Snape began, but was cut off abruptly by McGongall's upbeat voice.

"Wonderful suggestion, Mr. Weasley." McGongall said with a smile. "Severus, you could accompany Hermione back to Hogwarts this evening. I am sure she could use all the help she can get."

"Hogwart's does not have the proper research materials for this particular project." Snape stated smoothly. "I am afraid that my accompaniment would be of little use. I have the correct potions books and ingredients at my home, so it would be better if I worked from there while-"

"Excellent!" McGongall exclaimed, causing Severus to dawn a puzzled look on his face. "Hermione will accompany you this evening, then. It is very kind of you to open up your home once again, Severus."

"Now wait one minute, Minerva." Snape said in an angry voice. "I cannot simply-"

"Oh, come on Snapey." Fred interrupted in a mocking tone. "It won't kill you to have a woman around for a cup'la days!"

Snape simply ignored their interruption and turned his gaze back on McGongall. "Minerva, I really do not feel that-"

"Severus…" she stated sternly. "This project is of the utmost importance to the Order of the Phoenix. I am sure that you want to do everything in your power to guarantee its success?"

Snape replied instantly "Of course, but-"

"Then it's settled." Minerva stated in a permanent tone of voice. "Hermione will go with you tonight. I am sure that, with the two of you working on it, you will have the potion completed in no time."

Snape leaned back in his chair with a severely displeased look on his face. His eyes found interest in his plate, completely avoiding Hermione's urgent gazes in his direction.

She looked down at her plate as a crumpled-up piece of parchment landed flatly in her mashed potatoes. She opened it to see '_He's such a git'_ scrawled on the now gravy-covered piece of paper. She looked up to see Tonks grinning at her with a wry smile on her face. Hermione gave a broad smile and nodded anxiously in Tonks' direction, silently agreeing with what she had written.

She looked over in Snape's direction, the silly grin still plastered on her face. Her face dropped instantly when she saw that Snape was staring straight at her. _'Good thing he can't read through parchment'_ she thought to herself, picturing what Tonks had written and trying to pretend she had meant the broad smile to be for him in the first place.

"No, but I can still read minds." He said out loud.

'_Crap'_ she thought, before instantly closing her mind off to Snape's mental advances.

"Indeed." He stated smoothly, giving her one last, glaring look before returning his gaze to his plate once more.

She felt someone poke her arm and looked to her left to see Ginny leaning behind Krum's back in her direction. "What was that about?" Ginny whispered to her, as Hermione leaned back to meet Ginny's ears behind Viktor's chair.

"I'll tell you later." She whispered to Ginny, sitting up straight and scooting her chair closer to the table.

She spent the remainder of the meal conversing with everyone around her. She filled everyone in on her experiences of the past fourteen or so months. She answered most of their questions willingly, leaving out any details that she felt uncomfortable discussing. She repeated referred to McGongall and Lupin by their formal names, causing the entire table to erupt in a discussion about them all being "too old" to not refer to each other informally.

Tonks did her usual nose-changing bit, causing Ginny and Katie to laugh so hard that they both shot pumpkin juice out of their noses. Hagrid filled Hermione in on Grawp's current state of affairs, informing her that was he still living in the Forbidden Forest, but was quite happy there and was making huge strides with his speech capabilities. Just as the last bits of food vanished off of everyone's plates, Hermione turned to Harry to ask about the horcruxes. Awkwardly, she caught him lovingly stroking Ginny's hair while whispering something in her ear. Looking for another avenue of conversation, she switched her gaze to Tonks, but was caught by Lupin before having a chance to speak to her.

"Hermione, can I speak with you for a moment?" he asked her.

She began to rise from her chair, causing Viktor to stand up and pull it out from behind her in a gentlemanly fashion. "Thank you…" she said to him uneasily, before heading in Lupin's direction.

They walked in to the sitting room and Lupin motioned for her to take a seat in the plush leather chair to the right of the fireplace. He sat down in the matching chair across from her and crossed his legs before he spoke.

"How are you doing, Hermione?" he asked with concern.

She looked at him questioningly. "I'm well, professor… and you?"

"Oh, I'm fine, just fine." He replied quickly. "Hermione, I wanted to ask you how the project is coming along. What I mean to say is, how long do you think it will be until you are finished?"

She looked up at him, concern manifesting itself in her gut. "Well… I'm not sure." She stated truthfully. "With Professor Snape's help, I should think we could have the curing potion completed in a couple of days. The spell will take longer to research, I imagine, but it shouldn't be much harder than the potion."

"Good, good…" he replied, gazing around the room and then back at Hermione.

"Professor…" she said hesitantly. "Is everything alright?"

He looked away from her again, then met her eyes once more before answering her. "Everything is fine, Hermione." He stated in a reassuring way. "It's just, well… We would like to have the wand as soon as possible, that's all."

"Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked him accusingly.

He sighed, glancing down at his knees before continuing their conversation. "Not really, Hermione. Nothing that you do not already know. Severus has informed us that Lord Voldemort is planning another attack. It has been quite a while since the last one, but, with this new wand…" his voice trailed off.

"I know." She said, "I've researched it quite a bit. It is going to be extremely powerful."

Lupin only nodded, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the floor. She took the opportunity of being alone with Lupin to ask him something she had been wondering since the day she was released from Voldemort's lair.

"Remus…" she began, causing him to direct his gaze back at her. "I was just wondering… The first battle, the one where I was captured…"

"Yes?" Remus encouraged her to continue.

"Why is it that none of us were informed about Snape still being on our side?" she asked him.

"Oh, Hermione…" he hesitated. "I really do not think that I should be the one to tell you thi-"

She interrupted him before he had the chance to finish his sentence. "No, Remus… I need to know." And, knowing what he was about to say next, added "I do not want to ask Professor Snape, either."

He sighed, glancing down at the floor again before returning his gaze to hers. "Hermione. Not all of us are adept at Occlumency. The Order would not have been safe if Severus's true devotions were known to every member. You have to understand, Hermione, that the battle that took place that night was supposed to be the only one. Voldemort was supposed to be vanquished that night, only… things did not go as planned. Severus's loyalties were best kept secret, at least at that time. If Lord Voldemort had managed to capture anyone, as he was able to do to you, that particular piece of information would have had dyer consequences. Severus's life, along with the lives of the other Order members, would have been in great danger. His ability to spy for the Order would have been extinguished. Not to mention, you would be dead."

She nodded in agreement, waiting for him to continue. "His state of affairs is best kept secret from the rest of the wizarding community. The Ministry of Magic is home to far too many of Voldemort's supporters. That is why his innocence has never been proven."

"His innocence?" she asked. "What do you mean by that? He didn't-"

Lupin held up his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. "Now that, Hermione, I will not discuss with you. That is for Severus alone to explain to you, if he so wishes."

"Well isn't that just lovely." She said sarcastically.

She felt a heated sensation enter her chest and realized that she was becoming angry. She stared intently at Lupin for a moment before continuing their conversation.

"There he was, risking his life for the Order, and most of the people fighting did not even know what side he was on. What if someone from our side had spotted him? What if they attacked him? What if an auror had gotten a clear shot at him!"

"He knew the risks, Hermione." He stated plainly. "It was his choice. No one forced him to-"

"He could have _died_, Remus!" she shouted at him.

"Some things are worth dying for." He told her in a calm voice.

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?" Snape asked her from the doorway, although his eyes were glaring at Lupin while he spoke.

'_How long has he been standing there?'_ she thought, biting down on her lower lip.

"Yes." She stated plainly, rising from her chair and walking in Snape's direction.

"Hermione?" Lupin called to her from his still-seated position.

She turned around to look at him, still frustrated at his lack of concern for Snape's life. "Good luck." He said, a weak smile playing on his lips.

She turned and followed Snape out of the sitting room and through the kitchen, hugging everyone goodbye before she left. They walked out the front door to the end of the walkway, and Snape turned to face her.

"Here" he stated in his regular, smooth tone of voice.

He handed her a folded piece of parchment. She opened it to see only one, short line scribbled on the page: _7 Kingship Lane, Banstead_.

"Do you think that you can remember it?" he asked her sarcastically.

"I am sure I can manage." She answered with a mockingly arched brow.

He reached out his curved arm in her direction, indicating for her to take it. She really did dislike side-along apparition, but, seeing as she did not feel comfortable apparating to a place she had only been to once, she complied. She took Snape's arm and gathered herself in closely, waiting for him to take them away.

"You could give me some breathing room, you know" he drawled at her.

She had just enough time to flash him an offended look, mouth slightly agape and brows furrowed downward in a disbelieving manner, before he apparated them out of the street.


	9. Chapter Eight: Too Close For Comfort

**Chapter Eight: Too Close For Comfort**

They landed in the middle of a long, quiet street. The time was late, and the streetlights were alight with electricity, illuminating the houses that rested behind them.

"The address, Miss Granger." He said.

The moment she thought of the address in her mind, a large house appeared in the distance. He guided them down the street and turned left onto a cobblestone walkway that led up to the newly revealed, large, cape-styled house. A wooden porch spanned the length of the front of the building, giving it a rustic charm.

"Sir…" she questioned, "I thought we were going to work on the potion at _your_ house?"

He kept his gaze fixated on the approaching doorway, answering her question as they neared it. "This is my house."

She wondered at his question. She knew that the ministry would be looking for him at his former residence. Did he purchase a new home? Looking at the house that they were approaching, she didn't think it fit the profile of something Snape would consider 'suitable.' Then again, beggers can't be choosers…

When they approached the front door he whispered a soft incantation before opening the lock with a muggle key. The door swung inward, revealing a comfortable sized sitting room within.

This certainly did not look like a house that would suit Snape. The walls were covered in a flowery wallpaper, the couch bearing a matching design. There were several portraits of various witches and wizards scattered about the front room, many of them moving and waiving at the two newcomers as they entered the household.

She took it upon herself to scan the photos as she passed. She came upon a picture of a young woman with long, black hair and deep, mysterious eyes. Her lengthy locks were blowing in the wind behind her, as she bent down into the frame of the picture and picked up what appeared to be a small male child. She lifted his tiny hand with hers and they both waved at Hermione for several seconds before the woman replaced the toddler beneath the frame, and the motions began all over again. She leaned in for a closer inspection of the lady in the picture, when she realized she had seen that woman before.

"That woman…" she said in a small voice. "She's the girl from the picture in my bedroo-" her cheeks flushed, "in the bedroom I stayed in, when I was at your other house."

She fully expected to turn around and see Snape glaring at her angrily. Surely he would consider her inspection of the pictures in his home a disrespectful invasion of his privacy. Only, when she finally did turn around to see Snape behind her, he wasn't glaring at her. In fact, he wasn't looking at her at all. He was gazing at the picture she had just been looking at, a small smile playing on his lips. It wasn't his usual sneering twinge, either. He looked generally contented to be watching the figures that were moving about the large photograph.

Without looking at her, he stated simply "My mother."

She turned her eyes back to the portrait she had been inspecting, instantly noting the similarities in his and the young woman's features. "She beautiful." She stated kindly, looking back up in Snape's direction.

It wasn't a total lie… The woman did have some striking features. Her hair was long and flowing, and had a marvelous shine to it. Her skin appeared smooth to the point that it was almost flawless. The woman's eyes were the biggest indicator that she and the young boy were related to one another. They were large and deer-like, and were such a deep brown that they were almost black, practically blending in with the pupils in the center of them.

She turned her head to find Snape staring reverently at the picture for several more seconds before his happiness fell away icily, leaving an angered scowl on his face. She couldn't possibly fathom what could have changed his mood so suddenly, with seemingly no provocation.

With his usual scowl plastered firmly on his face, he looked down at Hermione. "Come."

He led her in to the kitchen, another very un-Snapish room. The paint was a light pastel green, and was mostly hidden behind three walls of antiqued-looking white cabinets. The floor was definitely linoleum, and matched the cabinets perfectly. There was no table, and minimal counter space. She wondered where on earth he planned on placing all of the materials that the two of them would need to brew the potion.

He spoke to her in his usual monotone voice. "I thought, seeing as this potion will take-"

"Seventy-two hours." She interrupted. "I've already attempted it once at Hogwarts."

"Indeed" he said in a slightly irritated voice. "As you have just stated, the potion will take approximately seventy-two hours to complete. Therefore, I feel it would be wise to begin as soon as possible."

She nodded her head in agreement.

He lifted his wand toward the one bare wall that was devoid of cabinetry and stated "Revealo."

A bright, glowing light began to creep around all four sides of the wall. The light started at the edges and made its way toward the center of the wall, seemingly evaporating the surface behind it as it shrank into a small, orb-shaped fireball, eventually collapsing upon itself and leaving nothing in its wake. The entire fourth wall of the kitchen had disappeared before her very eyes.

Beyond the newly-revealed opening was a large, square-shaped room, books spanning all three sides from base to ceiling. The floor was cold, hard cement, and had various colored stains that looked to be the lasting remnants of spilled potions. There were two, large, black tables that were located approximately six feet from either of the side walls, each containing a vast arrangement of potion-making materials. The twin tables each held a large, black cauldron, several glass vials and tubes, and a pair of see-through goggles and thick, dragon-scale gloves.

The room itself held an uncanny resemblance to the potions laboratory in the Hogwarts dungeons. The drains on the floor beneath the tables were even located in the same positions as those she had worked over at her former school.

"The books we will need," he stated, pulling her out of her interested daze, "are located on the second shelf at the far corner of the room."

She looked up at him and nodded, taking his statement as an indication that he would like her to retrieve the needed materials. When she had successfully located the two books, _Heartstring to Phoenix Feathers: An A-Z Guide to Wand Making _and _1001 Variable Potions and Draughts_, she had to seriously force herself to return to the other side of the room, as she felt a desperate need to stay where she was and read as many of the surrounding books as she could get her hands on.

She turned around to find Snape already pulling ingredients from one of the storage cupboards underneath the lab table on the right side of the room. She brought the books to his location and watched as he meticulously replaced any potions that he had moved in order to reach the desired ingredients. It was nice to work with someone as dedicated to his craft as she was to her studies.

She watched as he lit a fire beneath the cauldron with his wand, being careful not to raise the temperature too high too quickly. "Aquamenti" he incanted softly, as the cauldron began to fill itself with water. He went about his work as if in a trance, robotically performing the motions of his act as if unaware of the world around him. This was his element.

After twenty or so minutes had passed, and he had cleaned up the materials that he had used thus far, he sat in the high-backed chair behind the laboratory table, crossing his legs and simply watching the potion simmer before him.

"Professor?" she called to him in a soft voice.

"Mmm" was all she received in return, as he kept his gaze on the now boiling potion.

"Wouldn't you like to see the books?" she asked.

He looked away from the cauldron and glanced in her direction with a look on his face that said _'how long have you been standing there?'_

"All advanced potions begin with the same base" he stated matter-of-factly. "It will need to simmer for nine straight hours before it can even be touched. After that, it will be another six hours before I will need to reference any outside material."

She gazed into the darkness outside of the window that sat on the opposite end of the adjacent kitchen, noting in her mind just how late the hour had gotten. She stifled a yawn, attempting to hide her fatigue from Snape. Just as she thought she had been successful, he arched his brow, still staring at the cauldron, and proved her wrong. "You should be resting, Miss Granger. We have a lot of work ahead of us. I will need you alert if you are going to be of use to me during this little project of ours."

"I'm fine." She lied, stifling another yawn, even more unsuccessful this time.

"Bed." He commanded, rising from his stool and pointing out of the room with his index finger.

"Honestly, professor, I'm fine. I just-" she tilted her head upwards and opened her mouth wide as another powerful yawn escaped her, "just need to rest my eyes, that's all."

"Of course." He said in an all-too-agreeable tone. "Come."

He led her out of the laboratory and through the kitchen, ending back in the living room in which they had first entered the house. "Revealo" he stated again at a blank space in the wall between two large collages of pictures. Instantly an archway appeared before them, exposing a long, carpeted stairway that led to the second floor of the house.

"Professor, why is there so much protection here?" she asked him in a curious tone of voice.

"Never mind that." He stated plainly, but not at all defensively.

When they reached the top of the staircase he pointed to the door on the right side of the stairs. "You will be staying in my quarters, as there is a _private _washroom." He said, arching a brow and giving her a knowing look, causing her to blush furiously. "I will be staying in the guest room at the end of the hallway. If you need anything, _knock_."

It was his heavy emphasis on the word '_knock' _that made her blush even deeper. She nodded in his direction and he headed down the opposite end of the hallway into his room. When she saw his door close she opened the door to her own room and walked lazily to her bed, stifling yet another yawn as she did so. Without even undressing, she laid herself on top of the comforter and rested her head lightly on the pillow, falling instantly to sleep.

………………..

When she awoke the following day she was startled to see just how high the sun had risen in the sky outside of her bedroom window. By the looks of it, the time was probably at least noon, if not later. She glanced once around the room and noticed that her trunk had been brought from Hogwarts. Assuming McGongall had sent it with a house elf, she moved on. She rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom door that was directly connected to her sleeping quarters. Another very un-Snapish room, this particular bathroom wallpaper was covered in tiny pink and white pinstripes that stretched from the pink-tiled floor to the white crown molding. She couldn't help but laugh to herself at the thought of Snape picking out Barbie-colored decorations. Of course, she knew that he probably hadn't decorated a single room in the house, but it was still quite amusing to think about that particular possibility.

After she had washed and thrown her hair up in a loose pony-tail, she left her room and re-acquainted herself with bottom half of the house. To her pleasant surprise, Snape had already conjured breakfast for her, table and all, and had placed it neatly in the center of the kitchen. She walked to the table and took a seat in front of her breakfast plate, turning her head toward the laboratory to see Snape sitting, once again, purposefully in front of the simmering cauldron.

"I am sure that it is far from warm by now." He droned smoothly, keeping his eyes fixed steadily on the cauldron.

"That's alright." She replied. "It looks wonderful anyways. Thank you."

He waived his hand toward her in a _'don't mention it'_ motion.

"If you wish to be involved in the making of this potion," he called to her, "I suggest you finish your meal quickly. We have twelve minutes until the active ingredients need to start being added."

She nodded in his direction, although she was sure he hadn't seen her, as his gaze was still intensely fixed on the potion simmering before him.

After eating more swiftly than she could remember doing so in the past, she rose from the table and cleared her own place.

"Evanesco." She muttered, before turning on her heel and heading in Snape's direction.

"What next?" She said casually, moving the empty stool from the unused table to Snape's side.

He glanced down at her briefly with an arched brow. He looked somewhat amused at her relaxed stature.

"Now," he answered, "we add the dried billywig stingers. They will need to boil for exactly twenty-three minutes. Once that is done, we add the bubotuber puss, then the aconite, then the hellebore."

She looked up at him and chuckled lightly. "There aren't any instructions for hellebore in the book."

He returned her statement with a deep scowl, causing her smile to wipe instantly from her face. "Are you questioning my instructions, Miss Granger?"

"No, Of course not, Sir, I only thought-"

"That is your problem, Miss Granger. You always _think_ that everything you read in a text book is correct. Do you _think_ you will find instructions on performing the Killing Curse in a book? Do you _think_ that _printed words_ can tell you how to reason? How to feel? Do you _think_ they can teach you how to _loathe_ a person that you have never even met, _so deeply,_ that your only wish at the moment you perform the spell is for them to suffer the most excruciating pain and misery that anyone has ever felt in their lives?" His gaze dropped to the floor on the opposite side of him. He stopped stirring the cauldron's contents and sat there, silent and motionless.

"I'm sorry, Sir." She whispered.

She was in shock. It was not unlike her former teacher to lose his tempter, but what exactly had set him off this time? She was only making an observation… Although, he was right. Not everything could be learned from a book. She had based her entire life on what she had read in the unrestricted section of the Hogwart's library. Snape, himself, had proven that not everything is black and white. Not everything can be learned by books that were chosen by _other people_ for her to read. Her mind flashed back to the Potions book Harry had used in their sixth year. Snape had invented his own spells. He had perfected his _own_ way of mixing ingredients, and the results landed Harry top grades in every Potions Class he attended all year long. She was stupid to question the man sitting next to her. Clearly, he knew far more about magic than she probably ever would.

She looked back in his direction, only to realize that his gaze was still fixed on the floor beside him. He was avoiding her. It was her own fault, really. She had upset him… questioned his refined and perfected methods. Perhaps, he was even a little insulted. What a stupid thing to do to a man that she was about to spend the next two days with…

"Sir?" She questioned him with an uneasy voice. When she did not receive an answer, she continued on. "Sir, how do you know which ingredients to add to the potion?"

He dragged his eyes up from the floor and faced her, his face solemn, but, much to her relief, no longer angry. "I have come across many books in my life, Miss Granger. None of which will tell you the proper instructions for manufacturing a wand. The only witches and wizards in this world that truly know how to create one, are certified to do so. Suffice it to say that I knew someone, once, that was indeed a Wand Maker."

"Then why, Sir, did Professor McGongall have _me_ attempt to construct the wand, rather than _you_?"

His gaze hardened slightly at her question. It appeared as though she had struck a nerve. "I refused the assignment--- initially. I have my reasons, and that is all that you need to know." He gave the potion a quick stir and turned back to Hermione. "Of course, we know how _that_ decision turned out. Here I am, finishing your failed work, regardless of my protests to Minerva."

Now it was her turn to glare. "Wait a minute! I never asked for you to help me. I simply wanted to help the Order… and I gave it my best shot, with the materials that I had to work with…"

Her eyes searched the ground, her head moving with them, unconsciously whipping her hair from her front to her back as it did so. "Furthermore," she said heatedly, "I believe that I would have done a superior job, if I had been given the proper instructions. We can't all have been so lucky as to have known a stupid _Wand Maker_, now can we!"

She didn't know what she expected to happen next, although she supposed it would be something along the lines of Snape giving her a defeated look, or, perhaps even an apology. After all, it wasn't _her_ fault that no one had taught her how to brew a curing potion. _'Even _he_ must understand that, even if he _is_ a selfish git.'_

She raised her head back up to meet his eyes, now fully anticipating some form of an apology, even just a nod in her direction. What she wasn't expecting, was to see the most powerful look of blind rage being thrown at her that she had ever seen.

"You may leave." He breathed in quiet outrage.

"What?" She retorted in a shaky voice. He was scaring her…

"Leave."

She furrowed her brows downward as she looked into his eyes, questioning his motives behind the instructions. _'Why is he so mad? _I_ should be the cross one…'_

"No." She told him bluntly. "No, I will not."

He stared at her for a moment, his expression unchanging. It didn't seem like he was becoming any angrier, although that was not much of a comfort. He wasn't getting any calmer, either. After several voiceless seconds of nothing but the two of them gazing at each other, he finally broke the silence.

"Fine." He said to her in an indifferent voice.

That was it. She had won. She had won an argument with Snape! She was being allowed to stay! He wasn't as tough as she'd thought he'd be.

With renewed confidence, she said "So when do we ad-"

"SILENCIO!" He shouted, pointing his wand directly at her throat. Her words stopped in mid-air. She was completely mute. Not a single utterance of speech was able to leave her mouth. She began screaming wordless slurs at him, jumping from her chair and flailing her arms wildly. She paced up and down the room, pointing her finger at him and shrieking sentences that emerged from her throat as nothing but hot, still air. She pointed her wand at her own throat, willing herself to douse the spell. _'Finite Incantatem'_ she thought powerfully... Nothing._'FINITE INCANTATEM!'_… Still nothing. It was no use. She had never managed to master non-verbal spells. Eventually, she realized that her efforts were futile. She turned away from him and faced the kitchen, meditating silently in an attempt to regain her composure. Once satisfied that she was calm enough to face him again, she turned around, and walked back to his location.

He was smiling. He was _smiling_! That smug, arrogant smirk that she had seen plastered on his face so many times during the last seven years was playing on his lips yet again--- mocking her. She stood close to his side, hands on her hips, daring him to look at her.

"If you had managed to teach yourself non-verbal spells, you would not be in this predicament right now. Perhaps you should read some text books on the subject…" his smirk increased, showing the slight signs of teeth between his lips.

She attempted to grumble at him, but her fury escaped her lips in only a deep puff of air. _'Oh, yeah,'_ she thought to herself, forgetting for a moment the Silencio charm that had landed her in this irritated state in the first place.

Why did he have to be such a git? His mood swings were worse than a third year girl's. There was absolutely no reason for him to react that way. She thought back to her Potions classes at Hogwarts… he had reacted that way back then, too. Every time she asked a simple question, or made a mild observation, he would sneer at her and call her an insufferable know-it-all. That was, at least, when he didn't deduct house points from her…

His attitude aside, now he was being just plain unbearable. Though, she knew there was nothing she could do about it. That is just how he is: completely unpredictable. But, why was she expected to put up with his horrid behavior? She didn't need this… She had better things she could be doing with her time…

She had two choices: She could leave now, go back to Hogwarts, stay in the dungeons, and do whatever insignificant little tasks that the Order could scrounge up for her to do… or, she could stay with Snape. She could swallow her pride, watch him as he finished the curing potion, and maybe even learn a thing or two in the process.

She sat back down in the chair beside Snape, purposefully avoiding his gaze, and watched him stir the potion. Nearly an hour had passed before a single word escaped his mouth. He stopped stirring the potion and made to lean in her direction and grab a vile of bubotuber puss off of the table. Possibly forgetting she was even there, he stopped his arm just short of smacking in to her shoulder. He paused for a moment, then looked up at her, and asked "Would you pass me the blue vile to your right, please?"

'_Progress…'_

She passed him the vile and watched as he poured it slowly, carefully, one drop at a time in to the cauldron. He was incredibly cautious with his work, as if one mistake would mean the end of the world. Another twenty minutes passed in silence. She watched him stir the potion with intense interest. Just as he emptied the very last drop of bubotuber puss from the vile, he glanced up at her. A smirk appeared on his face, and she glanced in his direction just in time to see the upward creases drop from the sides of his mouth.

"You do not have to sit here and watch. You may leave, if you'd like. I could always call you when the important ingredients are to be added." He told her before looking up at her to gage her response.

She looked back and him and shook her head several times, signifying her desire to stay. He arched a brow and smirked briefly at her, before returning to the potion.

"Aconite" he said aloud, keeping his eyes on the potion in front of him, "must be handled with the utmost care. It can be deadly when not cut properly. The handler will need-" he looked up at her and stopped in mid sentence. She thought he had been about to say _you will need dragon scale gloves, _but there would have been no need for him to say it. She was already standing in front of her stool with the gloves on her hands, and a broad, excited grin plastered on her face.

She pointed her finger at a small metal box on the table in front of her, silently asking him if that was the box containing the aconite. He nodded in affirmation, and rose from his chair before walking around to her other side. He pulled on the remaining pair of dragon scale gloves and opened the small, shiny container, gently removing the delicate object within. He placed it on the table in front of him and picked up a large knife that had been laying next to the box. He raised the knife to begin the process of slicing the aconite, when he glanced up in her direction.

Her face now donned a mildly disappointed expression. Her smile had fallen quickly downward when she saw him pick up the cutting utensil. She had desperately wanted to be the one to handle the aconite. Such a delicate ingredient would never have been at her disposal during her time at Hogwarts… She supposed only a Potions Master or Apprentice would be granted the honor of handling such an important and dangerous element. Still, she had gotten her hopes up when she was sure that he was about to tell her to put on her gloves…

He stared at her for a moment, knife in hand, seemingly pondering what he was to do next. He turned the knife over, placing the blade in his hand, and slowly held the handle out to her. She looked down at the knife, then up at Snape, tentatively holding her hand out in a questioning gesture. _'me?'_

He nodded at her, causing a huge, animated grin to encase her entire face. She took the knife and stepped toward the aconite, noticing out of her peripheral vision that Snape was watching her cutting hand with the utmost attention.

He stepped in closer, now standing directly next to her, both of them inches from the table in front of them. He looked up at her and said "You will need to slice it in-"

She held up her free hand, her thumb and her pinky folded inward so that she was now making a '_three'_ gesture with her fingers.

"Correct." He stated smoothly with an impressed look on his face. "Three thin, even lines, straight down the middle. I supposed you have read about aconite before?"

She nodded her head at him, still bearing that same bright, excited smile, eager to begin the process of stripping the aconite. She kept her eyes on his for a moment, waiting for him to indicate that it was ok for her to start.

"Well?" he stated in an exasperated voice.

She gushed quickly at him and turned her head to the ingredient in front of her, carefully sinking the knife into the aconite in three sleek, even lines. He looked as if he was about to say something, but he just stood there, silent, watching her next move.

She walked to the opposite table and picked up a dark gray mixing bowl and rolling pin, along with a smooth, marble cutting board, and brought them to the other table before placing them next to the freshly-sliced aconite. She scooped the aconite carefully, one piece at a time, on to the cutting board, and squeezed the inner juices of the aconite out of the casing. After each piece was rolled flat, she cautiously poured the juices into the mixing bowl, until all that was left on the cutting board were the three, even strips that used to contain the powerful ingredient.

She picked up the bowl and brought it toward the cauldron, placing it gently on the table next to it and turning her head toward Snape.

"All at once, and followed by three clockwise stirs." He told her without being asked, watching her carefully as she attempted to heed his newest instructions.

She did just as she was told, and, after the third clockwise stir, turned back to Snape to see if she had done everything right. He walked toward the cauldron and peered into it, scrutinizing its contents for several seconds before turning to Hermione.

"Adequate..." He told her, before taking back his seat in front of the cauldron.

Despite his downplayed comment, she knew that 'adequate,' from Severus Snape, should be interpreted as 'well done.' She had a hard time wiping the smile from her face for the rest of the day.

………………………..

The remainder of the day passed blissfully. Snape continued to take charge of the potion, occasionally stopping to explain his actions to Hermione, and, once in a while, even allowing her to participate again. He had instructed her to stir the potion several times during their work, and had even allowed her to add the hellebore for him. All in all, she felt the day went quite smoothly.

When he had diminished the fire beneath the cauldron to a dull flame, he fastened the lid and turned to speak to her.

"That will be all for today. It will need to simmer for a full ten hours before we can add any additional ingredients." He looked up at the clock on the wall and surveyed the time. She followed his gaze and realized that it was quarter past midnight.

"We should get some rest." He told her seriously, leaving the room and indicating for her to follow. Once they were both inside the kitchen, he pointed his wand at the wall separating the kitchen and the laboratory, and muttered an incantation to seal off the entrance. The wall fell back in to place, making it seem as if the other room had never existed.

She made to leave the kitchen for her sleeping quarters and was held back by his voice calling to her.

"Just a moment, Miss Granger." He said.

She turned toward him with an inquiring expression on her face and was slightly taken aback to see his wand pointing straight at her. It was a frightening sight, having a man like Severus Snape pointing a wand at you… especially when the event came unexpectedly. She felt her heartbeat quicken as a lump manifested itself in her throat. She moved her gaze from his wand to his eyes, hoping that the disposition in them was anything other than angry.

"Finite Incantatem." He stated clearly.

A cool sensation filled the inside of her throat. She knew instantly that he had removed the silencing spell, allowing her to speak once again. She nodded a polite _thank you_ at him and turned to leave once again, Snape at her heels. He entered his own room in silence and she took her place in hers, thinking over the events of the past day. She was far less tired tonight than she had been the night before, and took the coherent opportunity to explore the room. "So this is Snape's bedroom" she said softly to herself, fully appreciating the fact that she was, once again, able to speak.

She walked to the lone nightstand on the far side of the room and frowned at how empty it was. There were no pictures, no books… not even a lamp to read by. She took it upon herself to peek into the top drawer, and was surprised to find a muggle radio inside of it. It was old--- that much was certain. The antenna was in tact but had traces of rust on it. It had a sliding radio station tuner on the top and one, lone speaker in the front. The handle was cracked, and, when she picked it up to examine it more closely, she discovered that the back casing was missing, exposing an empty battery compartment. "Hmmm…" she muttered to herself before replacing the radio in the drawer.

Surveying the room more closely, she noticed that the walls were completely bare. The large display of pictures that spanned the downstairs rooms of the house did not continue into this particular room. It seemed empty, and, almost… lonely.

She pulled the shade of the window shut and slid into bed, removing her robes as she went. She laid awake for several minutes before sleep finally took her. The rest of the night was filled with dreams of dragon-scale gloves attacking the house elf hats that she had knitted, and large, boiling cauldrons the kept growing taller and taller in front of her, preventing her from adding any ingredients to the potions within them.


	10. Chapter Nine: Road Trip

**Chapter 9: Road Trip**

They began continuing their work on the potion early the following morning. Several hours, and many added ingredients later, they broke for lunch.

Their conversation throughout the day had been limited but pleasant. It was mostly centered around potions ingredients and methods for adding them, but it deviated every now and again to more relaxed matters of interests. 

Hermione told Snape about her recent time spent at Hogwarts in his former rooms, taking special care not to mention the 'changes' she had made to the colors in his quarters. She filled him in on her first attempt at completing the curing potion, and he tactfully pointed out her mistakes as she went. When he asked for a detailed account of how she was able to obtain the centaur hair, she regaled him with the story of her and Harry's journey into the forbidden forest.

When she had run out of things to tell him about, she inquired as to his experiences over the several weeks that they were apart. He chuckled at her question, telling her that he would have told her earlier, but he needed her alive in order to complete the wand, and he was sure the information would have bored he to death.

Apparently the last several weeks had been quite dull for him. He had spent them apparating (under a dissolusionment charm) to and from his old house to transfer his belongings. He quieted when she asked if there had been any Death Eater meetings, eventually answering that there had been only two, and they had been mildly uneventful.

As they finished their lunch, it occurred to her that she had been the reason for his having to leave his former home. She felt a need to apologize for his troubles.

"It really is a shame that you had to sell your house, sir." She told him.

He looked curiously at her for a moment before saying "I did not sell the house."

At the moment, she felt relaxed enough in his presence to inquire further. "But sir, why would you keep two homes? Especially if the ministry is watching your other one. I would imagine you would think it a terrible waste of money, buying a second home while still owning the first."

He hesitated a moment, seemingly considering whether or not to tell her something, before answering. "This house was my grandmother's. It has been in my possession for more than two decades. I have just chosen not to return here for quite some time."

"Oh!" she answered as she comprehended the situation. She let out a prolonged giggle while looking at Snape.

"Something funny, Miss Granger?" he asked her, a slightly irritated tone in his voice.

"No, no…" she replied, still giggling. "It's just that, well… I was wondering whether it had been you who picked out the hot pink wallpaper in the master bathroom." She just managed to finish her sentence before she broke into an explosive fit of giggles. 

Realizing why she had begun laughing in the first place, he let a smirk grace his lips briefly before scowling at her in an attempt to force her to regain her composure.

"Alright, Miss Granger" he said to her in his usual tone of voice. "Compose yourself. We have work to do."

She just managed to stifle the last of her giggles when he cleared away the lunch table and led them back into the laboratory. They worked tirelessly in near silence for several hours before he initiated conversation with her.

"I was wondering, Miss Granger, if you had given any thought as to how you were going to discover the activation spell for the wand."

She thought about his question for a moment before answering him. She had done quite a bit of research on the subject, but all that the books had told her was that the only people who know the full incantation are certified Wand Makers and their apprentices. She had always thought that eventually, after all of her tireless research, she would simply stumble upon the needed spell and would be able to use it to activate the wand.

"Well, I have not exactly been through all of my books on the subject… at least not thoroughly. I am hoping that I will find it in one of them."

He was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. "You will not find the spell in any book, Miss Granger. It is passed on from Wand Maker to apprentice and can only be discovered when one of the two willingly explains it. Naturally, a certified Wand Maker would never reveal this secret to anyone. Neither would an apprentice, if he values his job."

She furrowed her brow as her hopes diminished. So much for finding the spell in a book…

She thought on the matter for several minutes as Snape took to stirring the potion again. As she watched him work, a thought occurred to her. 

"Sir, you knew a Wand Maker. Is it possible that he told you-"

"No." he cut her off. "I was never told the activation spell. If I had been, I assure you that I would not be keeping that information from you and the Order. Have some sense, Miss Granger."

She frowned and went back to helping him with the potion. When they had settled the potion in preparation for several hours of simmering, they sat back and picked up their conversation again.

"You will need to speak with an actual Wand Maker." He told her flatly. "If you would like, I could owl a friend of mine in Romania and ask if he will see you. It will be a long trip, but well worth it. If the Wand Maker is not willing to divulge the spell to you, which I am sure he will not be, there is a chance that his apprentice might. The last I knew his apprentice was a young witch around the same age as you. It would be worth a shot."

She smiled at him before answering. "That would be wonderful, sir!"

She thought about what he had said for a moment. He knew a Wand Maker, in Romania, apparently. She wondered if he had ever been there before…

"Sir," she began in a curious tone. "Have you been there before?"

"Yes, I have. And if you are going to ask me what clothing to pack, you should dress warm for this time of year." He answered her.

"So you have been there before?" she asked with a mischievous grin on her face.

He looked at her with an arched brow before saying "I believe I have already answered that question."

"Then would you mind taking me there?" she asked quickly and excitedly, now that her trap had been set and she had backed him in to a corner. 

He had a look on his face that made her somehow feel that he was thinking _'damn…'_ in his mind.

"I am very busy here, Miss Granger. I simply do not have the time to-"

"But, sir." She interrupted. "This mission is of the utmost importance to the Order. If I have to fly there it could take me days, possibly even weeks, that would be utterly wasted! But, if you were to apparate me there…"

He looked down his nose at her with an expression that said he was impressed and disgruntled at the same time.

"I have far too many things-"

"But, sir." She interrupted yet again. "You have just gotten through telling me that you were utterly bored out of your mind these past weeks… Everyone needs some adventure in their lives. And I promise not to be to much of a bother…"

He sighed, apparently giving in to her prodding. "I do not even know if he will agree to see you. However, I am willing to admit that his agreement would be much more likely if I was in attendance."

She couldn't help but give a slight hop in her seat at his concession, earning her a sharp glare from Snape.

"I have not even owled him yet, Miss Granger. Save your school girl expressions for when we have a definitive answer."

He rose from his seat and crossed the room, making his way toward the kitchen.

"Where are you going, sir?" she called to him.

He paused and turned the upper half of his body back toward her. "I am going to owl my acquaintance in Romania, and the Order, to let them know of our intentions. The potion is fine for the time being. I will thank you not to touch it."

She frowned at his instructions. He knew perfectly well that she was aware that the potion was fine and that she should not touch it. He only said it out loud in order to regain the upper hand in the conversation. She smirked as she realized that she had bested Snape. She had actually tricked him in to escorting her to Romania. She wondered how long it would take to convince the Wand Maker or his apprentice to reveal the spell to her. It would be awkward, staying overnight in a foreign land by herself… She didn't even know of any hotels in the area. Of course, she could always write to McGongall… surely she would know of someplace that she would be able to stay.

He returned approximately forty minutes later with three pieces of parchment in his hand. He placed them on the lab table aside from Hermione and scrutinized the potion for a moment before turning to meet her anxious gaze.

"We will be leaving tomorrow morning for Romania. I have owled Minerva, who not only agreed to our trip, but, in turn, flooed Charlie Weasley. He has agreed to allow you use of his apartment there. He is away on a mission for the Order, and assures Minerva that it will be no trouble at all for you to stay there while you… negotiate… the acquisition of the incantation."

A relieved expression took her over as he gave her the answers to all of her unasked questions. 

"I will be taking you there at approximately nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I will introduce you to my contact, but then I must leave to continue the work with the potion. The longest that I will be able to stay with you is one o'clock. At that time, the potion must be stirred and new ingredients must be added. If you do not return by nine o'clock tomorrow evening, I will assume that you need more time, and will apparate back to your location to strategize further."

He paused to purse a serious look on his face before continuing.

"Time is of the utmost importance, Miss Granger. It would be best if you were to gain the information tomorrow, rather than later in the week. The curing potion is almost completed. Then the wand core must be added to the base. We will want to activate the device as soon as possible. The more time that the Order has to work with the wand, the better off our cause will be."

She nodded in agreement, and took off upstairs to pack a bag for the trip. She decided to throw in both muggle and wizard clothes, as she did not know how the wizards of Romania saw fit to dress. She threw in the now clean muggle jeans and t-shirt that she had been wearing while captured, along with a darker pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt (for a nice change of color). She packed three pairs of robes, two plain black ones and a fancier, silky yellow one. Even though she hadn't worn dress robes since her fourth year at Hogwarts, she still found herself compelled to pack at least one set everywhere she went. _'You never know when you're going to need them' _she always told herself.

When she had completed packing for the following morning, she rejoined Snape in the laboratory to continue working on the potion.

During the course of their labor, he informed her that he had met the Wand Maker, Mr. Zebadiah Ravenclaw, many years ago when he was just a young boy. He also informed her that, yes, Zebadiah was a direct descendent of Hogwart's founder Rowena Ravenclaw, so it would be quite a task tricking him into divulging the incantation for the activation spell. Her best bet would be to become friendly with Zebadiah's apprentice, Natalia Borgova, and try to elicit the information from her.

They discussed the situation into the late hours of the evening until Snape looked up at the clock on the wall and said "It is late. We will both need our rest for tomorrow's journey."

With that, they both left the laboratory and retired to their respective bedrooms for the evening. 

………………………………..

She stumbled lightly as her feet landed on the cold, hard pavement. She couldn't help but thinking that this last side-along apparition trip was particularly nasty. Perhaps it was because of the long distance that they had traveled. On any account, she was glad to be back on the ground again.

They walked through an archway of sorts and onto a fairly busy group of streets. They were clearly in a wizarding town, as most of the patrons were wearing robes and pointed hats instead of jeans and t-shirts. She was glad she had decided on the former before apparating that morning.

They walked along the cobblestone street until they found a sign that read 'Ridgeback Apartments, 35 Hardner Circle, Tusnad, Romania' with an arrow pointing to the right up a long, brick walkway. They followed the path to a tall, white building with a single black door in the front. When they entered through the opening, Snape took out one of the pieces of parchment that she had seen him handling the day before and glanced at it briefly. Speaking directly into a potted plant in the front lobby, he stated clearly "Chinese Fireball, three hundred and twenty eight."

The elevator doors at the far right side of the room opened, revealing a large area for the two of them to stand. They ascended for mere seconds before the doors opened again, revealing a narrow hallway with a door at the end of it. With a simple "alohomora," the door swung open, revealing a modest, yet attractive apartment.

The apartment was much to her taste. There were only four rooms- a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom. The flat was small, but comfortable, and modestly decorated. The walls were all plain white and decorated here and there with lovely paintings of dangerous and exotic dragons.

The living room contained a large throw rug and a couch that was fire engine red in color. The kitchen was built in to the living room, and was small and efficient. The bathroom, she noticed, was plain white and as sparkling clean as the one she remembered from the Weasley home at the Burrow. She tossed her bags in the red and gold bedroom and stepped back in to the living room to meet Snape and begin their assignment.

"How long has it been since you've seen your friend?" she asked him casually as they left the apartment complex and made their way north into the center of the small town of Tusnad. 

"Longer than I care to remember" he answered her as they turned left onto a small, abandoned alleyway.

As they rounded the corner he hesitated, taking a small map out of his pocket and staring at it for quite sometime before he pocketed it and motioned for them to continue forward.

They reached their destination after approximately ten minutes of walking from the apartment. She made a mental note to herself that the short distance may come in handy, should her stay be prolonged for more than one night. They stopped in front of an old wooden sign that read _'Ravenclaw's Wizard Wands and Watches.'_

"Watches?" she asked him incredulously. It seemed an odd product to be selling alongside wands…

"Time turners." He answered her. "He manufactures them for the International Ministry of Magic. There is absolutely no need to advertise, as he cannot sell them to anyone but the Ministry, but, Zebadiah is… proud… of the fact that he is actually _able_ to produce them."

She laughed and said "He put it on his sign to brag? How arrogant can one person be…"

"Indeed." He smirked at her.

He opened the door for her and pursued her into the shop. It was much larger than Ollivander's in London had been. The building itself appeared to be at least twice the square footage that Ollivander's was, and it was absolutely littered from floor to ceiling with unsold wand boxes. The shelves that ran up and down the shop and split it into six even aisles gave the building the appearance of a library, which Hermione found quite comforting.

They wandered around the room for several minutes before the owner revealed himself from a back area hidden behind a blue curtain.

"Can I help you?" the man asked them, placing a large pile of wand boxes on top of the front counter.

He was an older man. Hermione would have guessed him to be at least seventy or eighty years old. He had a stern look about him, but the look was offset by a rosy pink hue held high in his cheek bones. He wore coke-bottle glasses that strongly resembled Harry's. The wizard was quite obviously old-fashioned, which showed in his choice of attire. Much like Dumbledore's robes, his were full and billowy, and were a deep navy in color. The man's beard hung half-way down his midsection, completely covering the upper most buttons of the man's robes.

He placed the wands down gently and walked toward the young witch and wizard, a content smile sitting on his face.

"If you two are looking to have…" he tipped his glasses down his nose and stared over the brim of his glasses at Snape. "Severus?"

"It is nice to see you, Zebadiah. How have you been?" Snape replied.

"Oh! Severus! I've been just lovely m'boy, just lovely. I wasn't expecting you until this evening. And I see you've brought your friend… Miss Granger, is it?" he said, holding out his hand to greet her. 

"Yes, Hermione, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." She answered shyly, taking the man's hand in her own and shaking it vigorously.

"I understand that you've taken an interest in wand making, Hermione?" he asked her tenderly.

"Yes, sir, very much so."

"Well, then, I suppose a tour is in order, then?" he offered.

He led them around the room, pointing out his rarest and oldest wands, wondering out loud when the rightful owners of the _'blasted things'_ would be in to claim them. He showed them some of his newest creations, one of which was highly experimental and contained a single string of pure gold, molded into string form from a leprechaun's treasure coin. Apparently, although highly magical, the wand was incredibly temperamental, rendering it utterly useless.

Hermione was offered the chance to test the wand, and, after being assured several times that it would be perfectly safe, she accepted. One flick of the wand saw them covered in feathers, causing Snape to scowl angrily and Zebadiah to double over hysterically with laughter. After the mess was cleared, she replaced the wand to its box and politely placed it back on the shelf herself, lest the old Wand Maker ask her to give the device another try.

Zebadiah led his guests to a far corner of the shop and conjured up a table and three chairs for them all to sit at. After pouring everyone a cup of tea and sitting down himself, he brought up the anticipated topic.

"Tell me, Severus, why the sudden visit? Surely Hermione here could have met with a wand maker in her own country. I must say that I am more than happy to be seeing you again, though. Why, I have not seen you since you and your mother came here for your wand the summer before you went off to Hogwarts."

Hermione turned her gaze from the old man to Snape, but when he refused to meet her eyes, she questioned him aloud. "Sir, you came all the way to Romania for your wand? Why didn't you just go to Ollivander's?"

Zebadiah interrupted them before Snape had a chance to answer. "Oh, yes! My family has manufactured wands for every member of the Prince family for many, many generations. Young Severus here was the ninth in his family, I believe."

She quirked a brow questioningly at Snape, but when she didn't receive an answer, she turned back to her host.

"So when will we be meeting Natalia?" she asked.

Zebadiah looked at her curiously for a moment before answering. "Natalia left my apprenticeship almost three years ago. She married a young British man from London and decided that working outside of the home was simply not for her."

She frowned a moment, wondering why they had even bothered making the trip if the Wand Maker did not have an apprentice. A certified Wand Maker was highly unlikely to divulge any of his secrets to anyone other than his own apprentice, let alone a foreign witch that he had never met before.

"My new assistant," he continued, "Is Theodore Smith. Severus is famailiar with him, naturally. Actually, Hermione, you may know him as well. Theodore graduated from Hogwarts just five years ago."

She thought on the matter for a long moment, trying to place the name with a face. _'Let's see… five years ago would have placed him in… who's class? Smith… Smith…'_

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I remember him! He was in Ravenclaw, correct?"

Zebadiah looked at her appraisingly. "Absolutely. Brightest wizard in his year. Graduated with six Outstandings on his N.E.W.T.'s. Theodore is a remarkably intelligent young man."

Now that she thought about it, she remembered Theodore quite well. He was a prefect when she began her time at Hogwarts, and she remembered thinking that he was quite handsome. She had often run into him in the Hogwart's library. Though, at the time, he was reading books far too advanced for her to have gained permission to check out. Intelligence did not seem to be his only talent, however. He had been keeper for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team, and had played many a game opposite Harry. And, now, he was a Wand Maker's apprentice.

His choice of career paths told a lot about the young man. Wand Making was not an occupation to be chosen lightly. It required countless hours of study and practice, leaving the aspiring witch or wizard with little time for anything other than work. She had never considered the career herself, though, now that she thought about it, she probably would have done quite well in the field. Her love of research and constant need for perfection would have carried her far in that particular occupation.

"I believe I do remember him, as a matter of fact." She stated definitively, causing Snape to look at her questioningly.

"Yes," Snape interrupted, "He was one of my potions students. He was quite… ambitious."

"Oh, absolutely!" Zebadiah countered, clearly unaware of any sarcastic undertone in the other man's voice. "Theodore is the finest apprentice that I have had in quite some time. In fact, I do not believe I have had the pleasure of mentoring such a hard worker since… well-"

He looked up towards the man sitting across from him and Snape interrupted the old man before he could finish his sentence.

"So, Zebadiah, when can we expect your young apprentice?"

"Oh, any moment now." Zebadiah answered. "As I was saying, brilliant young man. Ferocious worker, if I may say so. Nearly as promising as-"

Zebadiah meant to speak further on the subject, but was interrupted before he got the chance. At that moment the front door to the shop creaked open, and a young man with shoulder-length blonde hair and clear-blue eyes stepped into the room. He was carrying a canvas bag that was overflowing with long, white boxes. His gaze met Hermione's briefly with what appeared to be slight recognition in them, before he switched them to focus on the old man.

"Ah, Theodore." Zebadiah called, raising from his chair and motioning for the young man to join them. 

Theodore crossed the room and paused next to Zebadiah, moving his eyes towards Hermione for the second time. She and Snape both stood to greet the young apprentice, waiting for Zebadiah to introduce them.

"Theodore," Zebadiah said, "You remember Severus Snape. And this is-"

"Hermione Granger" Theodore interrupted his master. "It's a pleasure to see you, Hermione…" he took her hand and placed a chaste kiss on edge of her knuckles… "Professor Snape."

He extended his hand towards Snape and paused while the other man glared at him for a moment. Eventually, Snape extended his in turn and the two shook hands, albeit unusually briefly, before Theodore stepped back towards Zebadiah.

"Come, come, Theodore." Zebadiah encouraged. "We have much to talk about with our new friends."

Zebadiah conjured him a seat and the newcomer sat down amidst an interested Zebadiah, a glowering Snape, and a flushing Hermione.


	11. Chapter Ten: Theodore

**Chapter Ten- Theodore**

The foursome sat and conversed for some time. Zebadiah droned on and on about Theodore's various achievements, mentioning his _'Order of Merlin, Third Class'_ so many times that Theodore had to ask him to stop, stating that he only received it by sheer luck, and that his part in saving a pre-school aged witch from a Hungarian Horntail was vastly over exaggerated. Apparently, he had used his own self-invented spell, which combined a conjunctivitis curse with a powerful stunning charm, to distract the dragon long enough to rescue the distraught girl.

Hermione found herself instantly engrossed in the conversation. Theodore's achievements were nothing to smirk at, and the fact that he was unusually modest about them only made him that much more interesting a person. Although, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was an underlying reason for his diffidence. He was almost too modest…

Eventually, following a long appraisal of Theodore's research abilities by Zebadiah, and after a particularly nasty glare from Snape, Hermione ended the conversation.

"Well, Theodore, I suppose I should inform you of my true intentions for this visit." She stated wryly.

He looked at her with a small smirk on his face. "Do tell, Hermione."

She felt her cheeks flush before she answered him. "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to show me a little of what exactly it is you do, as a Wand Maker's apprentice."

"Are you planning on pursuing the career, Hermione?" he questioned her.

She didn't want to lie to him unless it was absolutely necessary, so she chose to circle around his question. "I have been thinking about it."

_'Yeah, for the last five minutes…' _she thought sheepishly.

"Well… then I suppose I am just going to have show you the wild side of wand making in hopes of converting you." He said smoothly, causing her to burst into a small fit of giggles.

"Excellent!" Zebadiah interrupted, standing from his chair, causing his guests to rise with him. "I will be away for the day on business, so the shop is all yours, Theodore. You do whatever you can to convert her!"

He smiled at the young man as he cleared the table and chairs away with a quick _'evanesco'_. 

"So, Severus," Zebadiah said. "Your letter said that you cannot linger to visit?"

"I do not have to leave just yet." Snape answered, though his eyes were on Hermione and Theodore, who were deep in conversation.

"Well, then," Zebadiah continued, "I am sorry that I will not be here today. I do hope you will understand? Business is business, after all."

"Of course, Zebadiah." Snape replied, returning his gaze to the old man before him. "It truly was a pleasure to see you again. Perhaps, if I am still around tomorrow?"

"Most definitely." Zebadiah told him. "You will be sure to let me know if you decide to stay, then?"

"I will." Snape told him plainly.

With that, the old man took off out of the back door of the shop, stopping only to say a brief farewell to Hermione and Theodore.

She turned to find Snape standing alone by the font desk, arms crossed in front of him, staring at her with an interested look on his face. 

"Professor Snape, will you be staying with us a while?" she asked him.

"I was just interested in young Mr. Smith's recent accomplishments in his field." He switched his gaze from Hermione to Theodore. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to demonstrate some of your projects for me?"

Theodore nodded. "Of course." He motioned for them to follow him in to the back room. "Right this way."

He led the two guests in to a back room of the shop. There was a large trunk on top of a sturdy wooden table. He pointed his own wand at the lock and stated definitively "alohomora."

Instantly the lock burst open, allowing him to open the trunk with ease. He extracted three long boxes, two silver in color and one in solid black.

He opened the first silver box to reveal a plain, wooden wand, light in color, and placed the other two boxes on a shelf behind her.

"Birch wood," he told them. "Fifteen inches, dragon heartstring. Hungarian Horntail, to be exact. Normally the breed produces very unstable wand cores. However, if cured just right…"

He turned to Hermione. "A shield charm, if you would not mind, my dear?"

She blushed at his use of the intimate words in regard to her, nodding her head and producing a shield charm around all three of them. She had just enough time to glance in Snape's direction and detect a deep scowl before she heard:

"Expelliarmus!"

Instantly the wooden desk in front of them disintegrated into nothing but dust, forming a neat and perfect pile on the floor where the table had been only seconds earlier, the large trunk sitting heavily on top of it. Her jaw dropped in amazement as she released the shield charm.

"You were able to do all that with a simple disarming spell?" she asked unbelievingly.

"It really is the wand." He told her. "It is powerful, yet precise because of the way it was cured. Go on." He handed the wand to her. "Try it."

"No, I… I couldn't…" she replied, barely trying to deny the wand from him.

"I insist." He said. "Just a simple patronus charm. Go on."

She lifted the wand in front of her and, with incredible ease, conjured the most vivid corporeal patronus that she had ever produced.

The whispy otter gallivanted around the back room of the shop, out in to the main showroom, and back to the wand in her hand, not losing even a miniscule portion of its power as it went.

"That is incredible!" she gasped, handing the wand back to Theodore.

He placed the device back in its silver box and into the trunk from whence it came, then turned back to the two parties beside him.

"Another?" he questioned, glancing from Hermione to Snape.

"Oh, yes, defini-" Hermione started, but was cut off by Snape.

"Just one more." Snape interrupted. "Perhaps something a bit more… useful, this time?"

"Of course" Theodore nodded to Snape. "I have something that I think you will find right up your alley."

He placed the remaining silver box back into the trunk and focused on the black one, removing the lid carefully to reveal a long, sleek black wand.

"Black Coral." He said, admiring the wand as he spoke. "twenty-one inches… vampire hair."

Hermione gasped at his description of the wand. _"Vampire hair!" _Her eyes widened as she spoke. "But… but I thought that when a vampire dies, his body turns to dust… including his hair, and any that he has shed during his lifetime…"

She let her eyes linger on Theodore's, though he was still looking reverently at the wand.

"It does." He told her, switching his eyes to hers at last. "The vampire that gave to this wand has not yet passed."

She let her mouth hang open slightly as she processed his statement. "You… you got that from a live vampire?"

"I assure you, Hermione, this wand is perfectly safe. I forged it myself." He said confidently. 

He held the wand out towards her and she shook her head. "No… no, you go ahead."

He began to pull the wand back towards himself when Snape made a motion towards it with his hand. "Perhaps you would not mind if I gave it a try?" Snape said silkily.

Theodore hesitated for an almost unnoticeable moment before handing the wand to him and answering. "Of course."

Snape took the wand and looked it over for a few moments, running his long, delicate fingers over the sleek exterior of the contraption, then eyeing it carefully before holding it down to his side.

He paused for a moment, apparently deciding on what spell to test the wand with, and then held the device steadily out in front of him. 

Suddenly the room went dark. Not a thing could be seen in front of her eyes as she tried desperately to seek out a source of light. It took her a few seconds to register what must have happened--- he had used a non-verbal spell. She seriously thought for a moment that he had used _'Nox'_, until the second part of the spell took over. All three of them were covered in an eery red glow, but the light did not extend to the room around them. It seemed to only cover their individual bodies, clinging to their skin in very much the same way that a sheet would cling to a person standing in the wind. It seemed to dance around her for several seconds as she felt a warm, tingling sensation engulf her.

She made to look towards Snape but then realized that she could not move. It wasn't impedimenta… it was much stronger than that particular spell. It was as if she was being transported to another place… another universe… apart from the room in which she was standing. In this universe time stood still, and so did she.

Several seconds later, the spell lifted, and she found herself as safe as she had been before the spell had been cast.

She looked to Snape, who was holding the wand at his side now, looking thoroughly impressed with what had just happened. She moved her gaze to Theodore and saw that he looked as shocked as she felt, apparently as ignorant of the spell that had just been cast as she was.

"Efficient." Snape said plainly, handing the wand back to Theodore.

"Th-thank you." Theodore replied, taking the wand and shutting it safely back in its box before placing it back in the trunk.

The three of them exited the back room and congregated in the main shop once more, none of them saying a single word as they walked.

"Miss Granger." Snape said to her. "I have some business to attend to before I leave. Perhaps you would consider meeting Mr. Smith in, say, one hour? The task would go much more smoothly with your help…"

"Of course" she said to him, turning to face an extremely disgruntled looking Theodore.

"You don't mind, do you Theodore?" she asked in the sweetest voice she could muster.

"Not at all." He replied, his frown turning quickly in to a satisfied smile. 

"Very good." Snape interrupted, walking between Theodore and Hermione to make his way toward the door.

Hermione took the hint and followed Snape, pausing first to shake Theodore's hand. He made to appease her but then lifted her hand to his mouth once more, placing yet another chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"One hour, then?" he asked her.

"Yes." She replied simply. "I will meet you here, if that is ok?"

"I look forward to it." Theodore replied smoothly.

She exited the shop at Snape's heels and followed his lead. They had been walking for a good three minutes before she realized that he was not speaking to her… on purpose?

She quickened her pace so that she ended up walking beside him, and tried unsuccessfully to catch his eye.

"Professor?" she called to him.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he replied irritably.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To the apartment so that I can apparate back to the house and stir the potion." He said quickly.

"Well, then, why did you ask me to come with you?"

"I was saving you." He answered.

"Saving me?"

"From a wasted hour of boring conversation with that dunderhead, Smith." He told her seriously.

She stifled a laugh. "I was kind of enjoying myself…" she said with a slight giggle in her voice.

So, he thought she was bored with Smith? 

"Well, then do not let me keep you!" he snapped at her.

She stopped walking, and he must have sensed it, because he stopped with her. He turned to face her and took in the hurt look on her face, clearly disregarding it.

"We are here on an official mission for the Order, Miss Granger." He stated flatly. "You are not here to flirt with your old school mate."

Now she felt really hurt. "I was _not_ flirting." She insisted, rendering a small snort from Snape. "I was trying to put myself on his good side so that he would feel comfortable enough to tell me the activation spell…"

She watched as his eyes turn back to meet hers, and she pushed her wounded look as hard as she could to get him to realize that she was telling the truth. He seemed to recognize that, and dropped his crossed arms from the front of his chest to his sides, glancing away briefly, then meeting her gaze once more.

"I apologize." He told her. "It was an ignorant assumption on my part. You were doing well, and I may very well have gotten in the way of your progress."

She tried to hide the shocked look on her face at his apology. Snape… apologizing to her…  
It seemed… impossible.

"No, sir." She assured him with a still shocked look on her face. "I am sure it will be fine. He seemed to warm up to me fairly quickly. I would not be surprised if I was home before tonight."

"Let us hope so" he muttered almost inaudibly.

"Well, Miss Granger, there is no point in you following me all of the way back to the apartment. You should go back to Smith, and work on discovering the spell as soon as possible." He told her.

She nodded, turned to leave, then paused. She turned back to Snape and called for him to stop.

"Sir?" she said.

He turned around to face her, but gave no verbal response.

"Be careful." She told him softly. "On your trip back…"

He looked almost surprised by her words for some reason, then nodded slightly, and continued to walk towards the apartment. She made it about another minute's pace down the road before a hand on her shoulder stopped her from behind.

She turned around to see Snape standing behind her, a balled fist at his side.

"If you find yourself in any sort of trouble," he told her, taking her left hand in his and turning it over so that she was making a cupping motion toward the sky, "contact me with this."

He opened his balled fist and dropped a shiny galleon into her palm. She looked at it curiously before she realized that it was no ordinary galleon. It was exactly like the ones she had produced in her fifth year at Hogwarts as a means for the D.A. Club to communicate meeting times. 

"Just tap it once with your wand," he continued, "and it will send a distress signal to the one in my pocket. Likewise, if anything is not going according to plan, I will signal you. You need only to touch your wand to the coin twice and speak your message out loud, and your reply will appear on the galleon on my end."

She looked up at him with a surprised smile. "Sir, these are exactly like-"

"I know." He interrupted her. "That is where I obtained the idea from." He seemed to search her face for a moment before elaborating. "I hope you do not mind that I borrowed your design…"

_'Sincerity? From Snape?' _she thought.

"Not at all." She answered it. "I find it kind of… flattering."

His lips creased in a small smile, and then he left again, making his way back up toward the apartment. She stared after him for a moment, thinking about just how much of a mystery Severus Snape really was.

………………………………..

Hermione and Theodore had been going over wand making theories for hours. He showed her his notes on the two wands that he had demonstrated to her and Snape, explaining why he used a certain base with a particular core. The notes were extensive, but terribly interesting. She found herself becoming lost in conversation with him, eager to learn as much as possible about his work.

His endeavors in wand making were unprecedented. Never before had anyone used Hungarian Horntail heartstring or vampire hair successfully. It was an amazing accomplishment, one which she was sure he would be famous for one day.

Eventually, despite the pleasant time that she was having with Theodore, she felt she needed to push their conversation in the intended direction.

"Theodore," she hesitated. "What can you tell me about… activation spells"

He arched a brow at her and seemed to consider her expression for a moment, then let a smile form on his face before answering her question. "Ah," he said, turning his body to face her completely, "I see you did your research on the subject before venturing here to meet with me?"

She nodded slightly, then waited for him to continue.

"Well, as I am sure you have read, Hermione, it is not exactly proper for me to divulge any information regarding that spell..."

She felt her smile falter, then quickly tried to hide it with an understanding nod in Theodore's direction.

"However…" he continued, "I may be willing to discuss the… broader… aspects of the spell, with you. That is, if you agree to do something for me in return."

She arched a playful brow and shrugged her shoulders upward, silently asking him what he was referring to.

"Have dinner with me, Hermione." He said as more of a statement than a question.

He took her cupped hand in his, then placed his other palm on top of it, effectively sandwiching her hand in his.

"What do you say? Seven o'clock?" he gave her a hopeful look.

She hesitated for a moment. For some reason she felt guilty accepting his invitation, though she could not figure out the reason for it.

"Oh, come now, Hermione. It will at least serve to give you some time away from that stuffy old ex-professor of ours…"

Now she felt more than ever like declining his invitation. Regardless of how Snape was seen by everyone else, she actually found him quite fascinating to be around. Although, Theodore was no bore himself… Eventually, after being unable to find a reason to refuse the invitation, she nodded her head in acceptance.

"Brilliant." He said to her, letting go of her hand. "Where are you staying?"

"Well," she began, for some reason not wanting him to know the location of where she was staying. "I could always meet you here-"

"Nonsense." He interrupted her, shaking his head fervently. "It would be ungentlemanly of me to not pick you up at your temporary residence before our date."

"Oh," she started, slightly taken aback by his chivalry. "Alright."

She had never been on a _real_ date before. Sure, Ron had taken her to the three broomsticks on occasion during the summer following her sixth year at Hogwarts, and Viktor had come to visit her in muggle London and taken her for coffee at the local diner, but she had never been on an actual date with an actual gentleman…

She smiled at him, then asked "Do you have a quill, and a piece of parchment?"

He retrieved the requested objects from behind the main desk and handed them to her. She wrote down the address of Charlie's apartment, though she left out the room number, giving her the opportunity to meet him in the lobby on common ground.

It felt odd to be going on an actual date. She realized just how much she must have missed out on during her time in captivity. All of her friends had been dating, meeting new people and growing to know and possibly even love them. She thought about Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Katie, and knew that the couples must have been on numerous dates over the past so many months. She sighed at the thought of missing out on so much, then forced a smile and handed the parchment to Theodore.

"Seven o'clock, then?" she asked him, motioning to the parchment in his hand.

"On the dot." He replied, walking towards the front door and holding it open for her.

"Would you like me to walk you to your hotel?" he asked her.

"No, no, I will be fine. I have a few stops to make before I return there, anyway." She lied.

"Well, then," he said, lifting her knuckles to his lips yet again. "I shall see you at seven."

She smiled, then walked through the door and made toward the busy street in front of her. She stopped before she heard the door shut, and called out to him, a sudden thought entering her mind.

"Theodore?" she said as she turned around, only to find him still watching her from the doorway.

He raised his brows in a questioning manner, and she continued.

"How should I… erm… that is, what should I…" she paused to find the right words, cursing herself for acting like a common school girl. "How should I dress?"

"Formal attire, I should think." He said, smiling at her.

_'Formal attire…' _she thought as she resumed her path toward the apartment complex. He must be planning to take her someplace elegant. She was suddenly thankful that she thought to pack her dress robes. 

………………………….

She stood in front of the full-length mirror in Charlie's Gryffindor-colored bedroom, inspecting herself from head to toe. The yellow dress robes strongly resembled a formal muggle gown, accentuating the curves in her body splendidly. Each line in the dress hugged her body lovingly, making her look much more voluptuous than she felt she normally appeared. 

The neckline was a low v-neck, dipping to just above the line between her breasts, appearing sexy yet tasteful. The sleeves were long, hugging her upper arms and then flowing outward at the elbows, ending halfway down her hands just before her knuckles. The sleeves and the length of the garment, along with the deep invisibility pocket on the side to hold her wand, were really the only parts of the outfit that implied that the article of clothing was a witch's robe, rather than a muggle dress. The waist tapered inward and rested on her lean stomach, neither too tight nor too loose. The bottom of the waist tapered in the same v-shape as the neck line, leading in to a silky, yet flowing bottom half of the dress. The skirt of the garment was not tight, but hung loosely and narrowly on her hips, dropping lazily to the floor, and leading into a short train at the back of the dress robe.

She had decided on a silver necklace with a ruby pendant, one that she had gotten from her parents many Christmases ago, and it sat beautifully in the center of her upper chest just below her collar bone. She transfigured a couple of hair pins in to matching silver earrings that rested just below her ear lobes.

Her make up was simple, yet elegant. She had dusted a bit of blush on her cheeks, accentuating her cheek bones nicely. She had chosen a faint brown eye shadow with matching eye liner, and deep black mascara that made her eyes appear larger and browner than normal.

At first, she had straightened her hair, proving just how long it had grown during the past fifteen or so months. It hung loosely above her hips, dancing across her upper arms and shoulders. After viewing it that way for quite some time, she found that the look was simply not her own, and used her wand to put it back to its normal, curly state. She unpacked a silkening gel and ran it through her hair, allowing it to dry again naturally. The new look was shiny and bouncy, allowing her hair to hang neatly in clean-cut ringlets that flowed over her shoulders and stopped just above her elbows when her arms were at her sides.

She felt that the outfit lacked something, and it took several minutes of staring at herself in the mirror before she realized what it was. She picked up a white t-shirt and transfigured it into a hand bag that matched her dress robes perfectly, and used a color-changing spell on her black heels to harmonize them with the color of the dress and hand bag.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and realized with a start that the time was already five minutes to seven. She dropped her wand in the invisibility pocket of her gown, and placed her change purse and the magical galleon that Snape gave her inside her newly-made yellow hand bag. She walked swiftly to the elevator in the hallway outside of Charlie's apartment, and stepped in saying "lobby floor."

She exited the elevator to see Theodore staring out the window of the main door of the building, unaware that she had just joined him. He was wearing a very handsome set of wizard dress robes that strongly resembled a muggle tuxedo. The black jacket hung all the way to his heels and matched the pants to the outfit. The shoes appeared to be shiny black leather, and would not have been visible if he hadn't shifted a leg to his right in order to better see whatever he was looking at on the other side of the window.

She approached him from behind and stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge her, but he seemed blissfully unaware of her presence.

"hem, hem." She faux-coughed, in very Professor Umbridge sort of way.

He turned towards her with his hand outstretched, then stopped, his mouth slightly agape at the sight before him. She was able to see his dress shirt now, which was plain white with black buttons and a white bow-tie, fitted snugly under a white collar. Hi hair was just as it had been at the shop, and hung loosely and neatly above his shoulder, a slight kink in the texture.

He stared at her for several seconds, looking her up and down more than once, before he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"You look… delectable." He said in a whisper.

She felt her face fill with color at his comment, and took a step closer to him.

"Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself." She smiled at him.

He opened the door for her and then followed her outside, sidling up to her and offering her his arm. She linked her arm with his and they walked the long path down to the main town road, stopping when they reached the cobblestone street that would certainly take them to their anticipated destination.

"Where are we going?" she asked him as they turned right down the familiar street.

"You'll see." He told her teasingly. "I plan on making it a surprise."

They continued to walk for several more minutes until they came to a tall, brick building with a sign on the double front doors that read _'closed for renovations.' _

She looked at him curiously as he released her arm and strode towards the door, extracting his wand from the inner pocket of his robes and tapping it lightly on the handle. Slowly, the words on the sign changed from _'closed for rennovations'_ to _'open to reservations.' _

He gave her a sly look and motioned for her to move towards him, then opened the door for her to enter. She couldn't help but let out a loud gasp of air as she took in the sight before her.

The building looked tall from the outside, giving it the appearance of having three, or even four floors within. As she looked up, though, she could see that the outer appearance of the building was largely misleading. There was only one floor, with a ceiling that towered up four stories high. The ceiling was enchanted, much like the one in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, only this one appeared to be bewitched to permanently mirror a clear, star-filled night sky. There were private balconies scattered here and there along the walls, some almost touching the ground floor, and some so high up that it looked like the inhabitants of them might hit their heads on the enchanted ceiling.

Each balcony had a round table in the center of it, with two chairs on either side and several glowing candles in the center. Just about every table in the restaurant was occupied, giving Hermione the impression that the place must be quite popular. Her review of the atmosphere was interrupted by a man in silver dress robes who stood in front of them with two menus tucked under his right arm.

"Ah, Mr. Smith." The man with the thick Italian accent said. "Right on time, as usual. May I show you and your lovely guest to your table?"

"Yes, please, Mauricio." Theodore answered him, taking Hermione's arm once more and following the host through the restaurant. He led them to a balcony table that sat directly on the ground against the right wall of the building, then opened up a gated doorway and motioned for them to step inside. Theodore pulled out Hermione's chair for her then took his own seat, accepting Mauricio's offer of the menus that had been tucked under his arm. She arched a brow at the silverware next to her plate. There was the usual salad fork, dinner fork, butter knife, steak knife and spoon, but there was also what appeared to be a silver quill with no ink tip. She looked up to Theodore, who was waving their host off with urgency.

When Mauricio left them, Theodore turned to Hermione and asked her "Are you afraid of heights, Hermione?"

It seemed an odd question, as they were seated on the ground, but she answered nonetheless. "No, not at all."

He smiled at her, then picked up the largest of the three candles in the center of the table, holding it midway above the table cloth in the open air. Suddenly their balcony was ascending, bringing more and more distance between the couple and the rest of the restaurant-goers as they climbed toward the ceiling. He replaced the candle to the table just as they reached a spot about ten feet from the top of the building. Instantly the balcony came to a soft halt, effectively ending their climb of the wall.

She smiled brightly at Theodore, amazed at the wondrous attributes of the magical bistro.

"Do you like it?" he asked her with a hopeful smile on his face.

"It's… it's incredible." She managed to say after a few seconds of continued reverie at the gorgeous view they had from their heightened location.

He handed her one of the menus and opened his own, looking at her over the edge of the open food listing.

"The salmon is particularly appetizing." He suggested.

Normally she would not have taken the suggestion of another person without reading over the rest of the menu, but she loved Salmon. She placed her menu on the table and waited for him to finish looking over his own. Eventually, he placed his menu on top of hers, and lifted his head to meet her gaze.

"Have you decided?" he asked, earning an affirmative nod from Hermione. "To place your order, you simply write what you would like on the center of your plate with that silver quill to the left of your fork. All of the waiting is done by magic."

She did as she was told, picking up the quill and writing "Salmon, mixed vegetables, béarnaise dressing."

As soon as she was done the silver quill vanished in to thin air, startling her slightly. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, raising her eyes to Theodore. "I forgot to order a beverage."

He smiled at her just as his own quill disappeared out of sight. He extracted his wand from his robes and touched it to the smallest of the three candles this time, letting it linger for only a moment. Instantly the candle disappeared, leaving in its wake a silver ice bucket containing a large bottle of Beringer brand White Zinfandel.

"Oh." She gasped, looking up at Theodore.

"It takes some getting used to, but it is quite nice once you familiarize yourself with the ordering process. It allows for a touch of… privacy… that you would not receive at a normal wizarding restaurant." He said to her.

She smiled back at him, silently agreeing with his assessment of the situation. She had never been to a place like this before, and found that she quite liked the idea of being on a formal date.

He poured each of them a glass of wine and they sat and conversed for nearly twenty minutes until their food arrived. They continued to talk during dinner, both of them taking turns telling various academic stories. Eventually she pushed the conversation back to wand making, easing into the subject by asking Theodore how he liked being a Wand Maker's apprentice.

"Oh, it really is a fascinating field." He answered her. "Zebadiah is more than I could have ever hoped for in a Wand Master. He has taught me everything I know about wand making. I truly feel that I have made the perfect career choice."

She smiled at him, giving him an encouraging nod. "How many years of study does it take to become a master at the art?" she asked him.

"Well," he answered, "It all depends. Zebadiah has had many apprentices in the past, some of which have gone on to become Wand Makers, some who quit before they had the chance… But, all in all, I am told that it normally takes about twenty years of apprenticeship before one can graduate to the title of Certified Wand Maker."

"Twenty years!" she gawked. "Why even bother?"

He chuckled at her reaction. "It takes incredible dedication to become a Certified Wand Maker, Hermione. That is probably why there are so few of them in the world today. Although, it does not always take that long to graduate from the apprenticeship. Why, Zebadiah was telling me just yesterday that he offered Professor Snape's mother the chance after only six years in the position."

She furrowed her brows and looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean, Professor Snape's mother?"

He returned her questioning look with an identical one. "Eileen Prince. Professor Snape's mother… she was Zebadiah's apprentice. Surely Professor Snape told you?"

"No…" she answered, staring down at her hands so that she could think. "No, he did not."

"Oh…" he answered hesitantly. "I just assumed… Seeing as you knew him outside of Hogwarts… I'm sorry, that was an arrogant assumption. I should not have mentioned anything. It was not my place."

"No, no." She answered quickly, looking up at him again. "I am sure he wouldn't mind… He probably just has not had the chance to mention it to me yet. He has been extremely busy with his… potions work."

Suddenly she felt like she didn't know her former professor at all. For a reason she could not identify, the thought gave her a queasy feeling in her stomach.

"Well," Theodore said, his enthusiasm returning, "seeing as the topic seems to have sparked your interest, I suppose there would be no harm in filling you in on what I know."

She smiled simply at him, encouraging him to continue.

"I do not know much about the subject, really." He told her. "Just that Zebadiah told me that Eileen Prince, Professor Snape's mother, was the most promising apprentice he had ever had. After only six years of apprenticeship, less than a third of the time that is normally required of the position, he offered to certify her as a Wand Maker."

"Did she accept?" she asked interestedly.

"No." He answered her. "According to Zebadiah, she declined the offer and left Romania permanently. He only saw her once after that, three years later, when she brought her son to his shop for his first wand."

She wondered why his mother would turn down such a rare and well-earned offer, and made a mental note to herself to ask Snape about it later.

After a delicious dinner, an incredible dessert, and several additional minutes of conversing over coffee, Theodore raised the tallest candle in the center of the table once more, and lowered them both to the ground level of the restaurant.

They bid good-bye to Mauricio and took to the cobblestone street, walking along the fronts of the many small shops that were still open at the late hour. Their conversation turned back to wand making, and, after several minutes, Hermione asked him the question she had wanted to bring up since their initial meeting that morning.

"Theodore," she started, "what can you tell me about the activation spell?"

He smiled, staring straight ahead of him as they walked, and offered her his arm once again. She took it, continuing to walk next to him, waiting patiently for him to answer.

"I could demonstrate it for you, you know." He told her.

She whipped her head to the side to look at him, amazed that he would so willingly divulge his most treasured secret to her. "You would be willing to do that for me?"

He continued walking for several seconds without answering her. Eventually, he twisted his head to face her, and answered her question. "I would." He said simply. "On one condition."

She quirked a brow at him and smirked, saying "you are a man who likes your conditions, aren't you?"

He smiled back and said "Yes, I am… when they get me what I want."

He stopped walking and turned to her, taking both of her hands in his. "Meet me at the shop in the morning. We can have breakfast, and then I can demonstrate the process for you."

She pulled her hands away slowly, feeling slightly uncomfortable, although she couldn't quite figure out why that was. "Well," she said slowly, "I am really not much of a breakfast person… but, we could always change breakfast to coffee?"

_'Damn… I always eat breakfast. Why am I lying to him?' _

"That sounds lovely." He said plainly, completely unaware of her uncomfortable state. "May I walk you home?"

"That would be nice." She said seriously, not looking forward to making the long walk by herself.

After a twenty minute stroll in the moonlight, opting to take the long way back, they entered Charlie's apartment building. She noticed him leaning in to kiss her, and she turned her face to the side just in time to allow his lips to land on her cheek. He smiled, once again blissfully ignorant of her discomfort.

"I shall see you in the morning, then? Shall we say, nine o'clock?" he asked.

She nodded, turning towards the elevator in an effort to ease him into leaving. She watched him walk out the door and heard a loud crack that signified his disapparation from the walkway. She walked over to the potted plant, muttered the password and the room number, and entered the elevator to her right.

As she opened the door to Charlie's apartment, she realized that she did not have to use alohomora to unlock it. She took out her wand and walked cautiously into the living room, muttering "lumos" to light her way.

Suddenly all of the lights in the room flared to life, and she saw a very tall, very angry man standing ten feet in front of her.

"Where have you been?" Snape growled loudly at her, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

She found that she was unable to speak. She had been working toward her discovery of the activation spell… why was he so angry?

His gaze shifted down from her eyes to the rest of her body, and his scowl instantly dissipated. He unconsciously looked her over, his gaze lingering at her ankles before he whipped his head back up towards her face.

Coming back to her senses, she said frantically "I was with Theodore, sir. I have been convincing him to trust me so that he will tell me the activation spell…"

She looked at him with a confused gaze, wondering why it was that he was so angry.

"And I suppose," he said quietly but with a tinge of anger in his voice, "that you were too busy to notice that I had signaled you? Or did you find it unnecessary to bring the galleon with you at all?"

She cringed. She had the galleon with her- she had made sure not to forget it. She had planned on checking it every so often to make sure that everything was still going as planned, but found that she completely forgot about it during her time with Theodore.

She opened her hand bag and took out the coin. It was warm in her hand and was glowing bright orange. He had been trying to contact her. 

"Sir… I'm sorry… is everything-"

"It is past midnight, Miss Granger. Our agreement was that if you had not accomplished your task by nine o'clock, I would contact you to discuss changes to our course of action. It is difficult to contact you when you are so immature and careless that you disregard the method of contact that I have given to you!"

She felt hurt by his statement. She really had only been doing what she was supposed to be…

"I'm sorry, sir…" she said softly.

"Indeed." He said sharply. "Did you manage to learn the incantation, or were you too busy gallivanting around town all evening with your new friend?"

_'Wow… that was uncalled for.' _

"I am meeting him in the morning. He is going to demonstrate it for me." She explained.

He looked surprised by her statement. "He offered to demonstrate the activation spell for you?"

"Yes." She said confidently. "That was the point of my coming here, wasn't it? To convince him to tell me the spell?"

_'That out to put him in his place…' _

"Yes," he answered quickly, "but I thought… I assumed that you would have to take it from his notes. I did not expect him to demonstrate it for you."

"Well apparently he has taken a liking to me." She stated smugly.

He glared at her for several seconds, his eyes boring into hers. "Yes." He paused for a minute while he continued to glare at her. "I do not know what the spell's motions are, or the incantation that is needed to perform it. I do know, however, that it is a long and tedious chore. It is not something that you will remember off hand."

She hadn't thought about this before. He was most certainly correct.

"Any ideas, Miss Granger, on how to copy the spell without him noticing?" he asked.

She thought about the matter for a minute. In the muggle world, if one wanted to remember all the details of an event, one would simply record it with a video camera…

"Sir!" she yelled suddenly. "I have to apparate to London!"

He stared at her like she was going insane. "What? No. Absolutely not. There are too many people looking for you. You must not be seen."

"But, _sir_," she pleaded, "I have to get there tonight! I need to purchase a muggle video camera! I will not find one in any of the wizarding communities…"

She quieted for a moment as she tried to think of a more convincing argument. "Besides," she continued, "It is highly unlikely that I will meet a ministry official or one of… his followers… in a muggle city. And, even if I do," she persisted, "no one is going to recognize me tonight. I haven't worn dress robes since the Yule Ball in my fourth year. No one would ever expect to see me looking like this. I could apparate directly to the theatre disctrict- I know it well- and I could buy the camera and be back here within the hour."

He considered her statement for a moment before answering. "No. It is too dangerous. I will go."

"Sir, _please_." She implored him. "Look at you!" she paused as he looked himself up and down. "You could not be any further from a muggle if you carried a broom in your right hand and your wand in your left. It _has_ to be me."

He began pacing the room back and forth, stopping when he reached the kitchen and turning to walk back toward the door. Eventually he stopped and made his way toward the couch, sitting down and looking up at Hermione.

"Fine." He conceded. "You have one hour. If you are not back by then, I am coming after you."

She smiled at him and nodded, then walked to the center of the living room and apparated to muggle London.

Her trip was quick. She blended in easily with all the overdressed theatre-goers, and simply walked past them to the far end of 31st Street. She saw the twenty-four hour convenience store and crossed her fingers, hoping she would find what she was looking for.

After several minutes of surveying the aisles, she found a pen-sized pocket video camera, and read the back of the package. "Thirty minutes" she said aloud to herself, hoping the recording time would be enough to successfully tape the entire incantation.

She made her way to the front of the store and noticed a rack that had nothing but batteries on it. Her camera pen came with a battery, so she did not need to purchase that particular size. She found herself thinking about the muggle radio that Snape kept in the nightstand at his home, and decided to purchase a pack of size _'D'_ batteries to give him for it. She purchased the video camera and the batteries, placing both items in her spacious handbag, headed back to the secluded side street that she had apparated on to, and waited until she was alone again to return to the apartment.

Seconds later she found herself back in the center of the living room, facing an anxious looking Snape.

"Well?" he asked her.

She removed the camera from her hand bag and gave it to him, saying "pen-sized. I can put it in my shirt pocket and he will be none the wiser."

He smirked at her impressively, placing the package back in her hand. He rose from the couch and walked to the door of the apartment, placing a hand on the handle.

"Are you leaving?" she asked him.

"Yes. I have to return to the potion. I will return tomorrow after it has finished curing."

She nodded to him and turned towards the bedroom.

He called after her. "Oh, and Miss Granger…" she turned to face him. "Bring the coin with you tomorrow. In _your pocket_."

She blushed and nodded at him. She watched him leave and made her way to the bedroom, thinking tomorrow's mission over in her mind. If everything went as planned, she would have the activation spell by noon--- right around the time that she expected the curing potion to be finished. With any luck, the wand would be completed by the following evening, and the Order would have its much-needed device.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Learn From Your Mistakes

_I would first like to say a quick thank you to all the people that are following this story, and a very special thank you to all of you who are reviewing it. Your kinds words are my inspiration to keep writing. This was a hard chapter to write… so I hope you all like it. Enjoy!_

…………………………………………………………………………

**Chapter Eleven: Learn From Your Mistakes**

Hermione awoke the following morning with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had tossed and turned all night. The lack of sleep did little for her appearance, she noted, while looking into the bedroom mirror. She fixed the dark circles under her eyes with a cosmetic incantation that Ginny had taught her, and made her way to the bathroom for a hot, refreshing shower.

She dressed in her usual muggle-clothing-under-wizard-robes, and made her way to the kitchen to eat breakfast before she met Theodore.

She felt guilty for having lied to him the night before, especially since she wasn't exactly sure why she had done it. She had felt as though she had been betraying someone, though there was no one for her to betray. She shook her head and laughed lightly at herself.

"Hermione Granger, you really are a basket case sometimes." She said out loud to herself.

She placed the pen video camera in her pocket, having decided the previous night to place it on a shelf rather than in her chest pocket, so as to keep it as unnoticeable as possible. She grabbed the magic galleon that Snape had given her and placed it in the front pocket of her jeans, hoping that the material was thin enough for her to feel it should he signal her. He had been so angry with her the previous night… She did not want to give him a reason to become that way again.

She made the fairly short journey to the wand shop and arrived at precisely two minutes before nine. Not surprisingly, Theodore was anxiously awaiting her arrival just inside the shop doors.

"Ah, Hermione. You look lovely this morning. Coffee?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you." She replied.

Theodore had already conjured another table for them to sit at. Hermione took the seat nearest the window, and Theodore sat opposite her. They sat in silence for several moments while they each sipped their beverage, Theodore trying with all his might to catch Hermione's eye and strike up a conversation; Hermione trying her best to avoid it. Eventually he broke the silence, using the only tool he knew would grab her full attention.

"So, do you know anything at all of the activation spell? Movements? Wording?"

"No," she replied. "There doesn't seem to be much literature on the subject. It appears to be a well kept secret. I truly appreciate you showing me, Theodore. Thank you."

"Not at all." He replied smoothly. "After all, Zebadiah told me to do whatever was necessary to recruit you. I am only doing as I was instructed."

She felt a tinge of guilt at his words. She had no intentions whatsoever of becoming a Wand Maker… But he didn't need to know that.

"I suppose you are right." She told him.

"Well, Hermione," he stated while clearing the table of their now-empty coffee cups with a flick of his wand, "I suppose we should get on with the boring stuff… Perhaps afterwards you will indulge me with your company for a bit longer? I know of a lovely little bistro where we could take brunch…"

"Oh, well I already-" she stopped herself just in time. She was about to tell him that she had already eaten… and after she told him only hours before that she never ate breakfast! Hopefully he hadn't noticed…

"I… I already made plans for lunch." She stumbled.

He shot her a jealous look, and she rethought her response. "Not a date!" She half-yelled, earning her a startled look from Theodore. "I mean, Professor Snape is making me assist him again. Of course, I would most certainly rather have lunch with you, but, you know how it is. He did bring me all this way to meet you, after all. It's the least I can do to help him out…"

She hoped her rushed excuse was good enough for the man sitting before her. It was.

"Oh! Well, naturally I understand your predicament." He said haughtily. "I am sure that you wouldn't spend any more time in the greasy git's company than you had to. I only wish he would let you off your leash long enough to allow me to get to know you better…" he said as he reached his hand across the table toward her.

He placed his hand on top of hers and she recoiled it, more because of his statement than his touch.

"I am not on a leash." She stated defensively.

"Well, of course you are not." He stated with an indifferent expression. "I only meant that he seems to enjoy ordering you around quite a bit. Naturally, seeing as he is your only 'in' with the wand making industry, you feel it necessary to oblige him…"

"No, I do not feel it necessary to oblige him." She said with a tone of offense in her voice.

'_Easy, Hermione… You need him.' _She thought with a grimace.

"I'm sorry, Theodore" she said as naturally as possible. "I think it's the time difference… I guess I am a little grouchy being up this early in the morning…"

He seemed to buy it.

"No need to apologize, my dear." He said, as Hermione thought the words _'gag me'_ in her head. "I believe I can cheer you up. Come." He stated definitively, standing from his chair and holding his hand out towards her.

She took it with a smile and followed him in to the back room, taking her pen camera out of her pocket and squeezing it tightly in her free hand as she walked. He stopped before the same wooden desk she saw him destroy yesterday (he must have repaired it after she left) and placed his own wand on the table. He released her hand and made toward the back of the room where a large pile of wand boxes lay unprotected. She took the opportunity to place the pen camera on a shelf behind her. The device now lay between two bookends and faced directly at the table in front of her. She turned it on quickly and reclaimed her place in front of the desk, just seconds before Theodore turned to her direction once more.

"This," he said, walking towards Hermione, "is a plain birch wood wand, sixteen and one half inches, unicorn hair. It is the safest kind of wand on which to perform the spell."

"Does the compilation of the wand effect how the spell is performed?" she asked in the least-worried tone possible.

"No, the spell is always the same." He answered her. "The only problem with performing it on more… _advanced_ wands, is that the substances inside them may make them volatile. Even the most harmless of spells, including the activation spell, could cause a terrible backlash. When working with wands of the caliber I showed you yesterday, a shield charm must always be used."

She was inwardly grateful for his unknowingly important information. Snape probably knew the precautionary procedure already, but she could not be entirely sure. After all, he hadn't known the activation spell.

"This wand," Theodore continued, "is the farthest thing from volatile that we could work with. A shield charm is highly unnecessary."

He placed the unfinished wand on the table in front of them and took up his own, standing just far enough away from the object of his intentions to touch it with an outstretched arm.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes… please." She answered eagerly.

She watched in awe as he performed the spell. Snape was right. There were and uncountable number of wand movements involved with the spell. This was not going to be easy. He said the incantation with amazing gracefulness, moving his wand absently as he did so. The unfinished wand did not move, but many different colors of light shot from his own wand. Yellow, white, red, green, blue… The colors continued on and on until a whispy gray shot from his wand tip into the destination wand. Suddenly the other wand grew bright, emitting a soft white hew halfway around the room. After several seconds the light disappeared, leaving only the same, still wand that was there to begin with.

"Go ahead," Theodore smirked at her. "Give it a try."

She snatched up the newly activated wand in her hand and gave it a quick swish, sending her otter-shaped patronus gallivanting around the room. The whispy figure was far less vivid than it was the day before. She attributed its state to the weak compilation of the new wand. Eventually the patronus died out, leaving her with a quiet wand in her hand and a smile on her face.

"That was brilliant." She told him plainly.

"You're brilliant." He smiled back at her.

He moved toward her and reached out for the wand. Suddenly, though she couldn't explain why, she felt extremely uncomfortable.

He removed the wand gently from her hand and placed it on the table. Pocketing his own wand, he turned back toward her and placed a hand on her waist. She stood there, frozen on her feet, unsure of what to do next. He hadn't done anything wrong… yet.

He moved a hand to the back of her head and stroked her hair gently. Now she felt very, very uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Theodore," she said quietly. "But I really must be going. Professor Snape-"

"Professor Snape will wait." He said in a raspy voice.

He leaned forward to kiss her and, once again, she moved her head to the side. This time, he was not so easily diverted.

"What is wrong, Hermione?" he asked her in what sounded more like an agitated voice than a concerned one.

"Nothing… It's just… I just… I have to meet Professor Snape, and he-"

He placed a finger to her lips to quiet her. She suddenly realized that her back was up against the table, and he was blocking her only path to the door. A very uneasy feeling overcame her. She wished she had kept her wand out during the incantation…

"You act as if Professor Snape is your master. You are not a potions apprentice, are you?" he asked in a low voice, removing his finger from her lips.

"Well, no, I'm not, but-" she was cut off.

"Then you have no obligation to him." He stated bluntly.

"Well, not _technically_… But I _really should_-"

"What you _really should_ be doing, is spending time with me… I thought you liked me, Hermione?" he said in mock concern.

Now she felt, if possible, more uncomfortable than before.

"I _do_, Theodore." She implored.

"Good." He said, leaning in to kiss her again.

"Theodore, I really must be going." She said loudly, avoiding his kiss and placing her hands on his chest in an effort to create space between them. It didn't work.

He stood there, placing his hands on the table on either side of her, his face close enough to hers that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Don't you want me, Hermione?" he asked her in a hushed whisper.

"_What_?" she squeaked. "Theodore this is not funny. I really have to be going… Professor Snape will be worried…"

'_Oh, god… he won't be worried. He will have no idea that anything is wrong, and he is probably all the way in Banstead right now-' _

She glanced down at her pocket in sudden remembrance. _'The coin!'_

If only she could somehow distract Theodore long enough to use it…

"Professor Snape will-" she started to say before she was cut off.

"I wonder, Hermione, why you cannot seem to rid your mind of our former professor? Could it be that you have feelings for him?" he asked.

"What?" she squeaked again.

'_Now that really is ridiculous…'_

"Well," he began, "you keep referring to him as if you are looking for an excuse to leave… As if you do not wish to be here with me right now."

She had to think fast.

"Of course not, Theodore." She gave him a flirtatious smile. "I just would not want him to disturb us… which is quite possible, as he is expecting me any moment now."

He relaxed his grip on the desk slightly, apparently taking her bait. "Good point…" he said.

She took her wand from her robe pocket slowly and made as if she was placing it in the waistband of her jeans. Once she had it inside her robes, she pushed it into her jeans pocket and touched the tip to the coin. Instantly she felt the object warm. She could only hope the damn thing worked…

Theodore seemed to be growing impatient. Once again he tightened his grip on the desk and kept her locked where she was. "Well, Hermione… I kept _my_ part of the bargain…"

"What bargain?" she asked with hushed breath.

"I told you…" he said, "I like my considerations… especially when they get me what I _want_."

"I don't understand what you mean…" she replied, though she thought she knew exactly what he meant.

"Come now, Hermione." He countered. "I was top of my class, as were you. Let us not play games. I have seen the way you have been looking at me…"

"I haven't been looking at you in any particular way, Theodore." She said hurriedly. "I like you, but-"

"So I was right?" he asked.

"Yes… no… I- I don't know what you are talking about!" she said.

He moved in closer, now his nose was touching hers. "You know exactly what I am talking about, Hermione."

"Theodore, you- you're scaring me…"

"There is no need to be scared, Hermione." He said smoothly, placing one hand inside her partially open robes and around her waist.

"Stop." She said softly.

He placed his other hand inside her robe, resting it on the opposite side of her waist.

"Stop, Theodore." She said a little louder. He didn't listen.

He pulled her close to him, close enough for her to feel his hardness pressed against her navel. She was struggling frantically now. Suddenly, she got the idea to reach for her wand…

Bad idea.

He held his left arm out far to the side and said "Accio Hermione's wand!"

Instantly her wand flew from within her pocket toward his outstretched hand. She made a grab for it and missed, giving him the opportunity to hit it to the side. He placed a hand over her mouth to prevent her from magically accessing the wand herself, leaving the other wrapped firmly around her waist.

He fiddled with the bottom of her shirt for a few seconds before he slid his hand underneath and caressed the soft flesh of her stomach. She felt the bile build in her throat. Now she knew why she had been uncomfortable around him all this time…

She struggled against the arm around her waist and the hand against her mouth at the same time. It was too difficult to choose between the two.

In a sudden stroke of brilliance she bit down hard on his index and middle fingers.

"Ow!" he yelped, releasing her from his grip.

She made a dash for the door and he grabbed her arm before she was out of his reach, holding her back.

"Let me go!" she screamed as she whipped her head in his direction.

He pulled her close to him once more and she raised her hand in the air. In one, fluid movement, she slapped him with all her strength across the face. His head whipped to the side, giving her just enough time to summon her wand. She placed a hand on the wand tucked in Theodore's robe pocket and shouted for her own wand.

"Accio wand!" she screamed, holding out her hand in anticipation of the wooden object.

No sooner had she raised her arm than he batted it downward, flicking the wand to the ground and landing it several feet too far out of her reach.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at the unexpectedly horrid man before her. In one, final attempt to free herself, she stomped as hard as she could on his foot.

"Aargh!" he groaned loudly, not relinquishing even a smidgen of his grip on her.

"You filthy mudblood whore!" he screamed at her.

It happened too fast for her to see it coming. She barely registered him raising his fist before she felt it collide with her nose. She fell backward on to the table, smacking the back of her head on the hard, wooden surface. The blood from her broken nose trickled instantly backward into her eyes, running up her face as her chin sat high in the air. The blood was stinging her eyes with an unbearable pain, forcing her to shut them even though she felt the incessant need to keep them open and watch her attacker's every move.

Sobbing wildly, she managed to yell "PLEASE!" at the top of her lungs.

She heard a loud bang across from her- in a rage, he must have thrown something across the room behind him. A second later she felt his hands behind her back pulling her upward toward him. She struggled against his grip, hopelessly trying to break free. Although, she didn't know what good it would do… she couldn't see to run anyways.

"Shhhh" he said to her.

"Let me go!" she screamed. She attempted to open her eyes but merely shuddered at the stinging pain as she did so, causing her to squeeze them shut even tighter than before.

"Tergeo" he said.

Instantly the blood had drained from her face and was seeping back out of her eyes. She fluttered her lids lightly in an effort to help release the blood that had accumulated in them.

"Episkey" she heard him say. Instantly she felt her nose heal, and, with it, the pain left her.

Confused, and still horribly frightened, she opened her eyes to see what he was planning to do next.

"Professor!" she screamed.

It was him- it was Snape- he had rescued her… again.

She looked to the limp form of Theodore Smith that lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, then back at Snape.

"Is he…"

"No." He answered before she asked her full question. "Stunned. And lucky I did not kill to the little shit."

Suddenly the full gravity of the situation hit her. She broke down in to ragged sobs and sat on the desk behind her, head in her hands.

"Miss Granger…" Snape said in a soft voice, bending forward and placing his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She couldn't take it anymore. Affectionate by choice or not, he was the only one there, and he was going to be her shoulder to cry on. She whipped her head up from her hands and flung her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tightly to her. She sobbed loudly on his shoulder, soaking his robes from the collar to the top of the sleeve.

She half expected him to pull away- Merlin knows he isn't a tolerant man, let alone a compassionate one. But he didn't pull away. He stayed where he was, allowing her to cry out her fear and relief all over his finely-made robes. After several minutes of nothing but silence, he chanced a glance at her and spoke aloud.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?"

She thought she felt better… in fact, she opened her mouth to tell him so, but it didn't come out the way she had meant it to. Her sobs started up once more, and all she managed to gush out was a loud groan of "Ohhhhh!"

She went right back to resting her eyes on his shoulder, seeking whatever little comfort he was willing to give her. She winced slightly when she felt his hand touch her lower back. He hesitated, probably thinking that she didn't want him to hug her- but he would have been wrong. She needed a hug… now more than ever.

After a few seconds of probably mulling it over in his mind, she felt his hand replace itself in the middle of her back. This time, she did not wince. He began rubbing slow, gentle circles on her back with his open palm. It soothed her instantly, diminishing her hard sobs to brief, intermittent intakes of breath in between silently falling tears. After several moments of just sitting, and holding, and comforting, she lifted her head from his shoulder to face him.

"I'm sorry, Professor." She said in the softest voice possible.

He looked at her with what she could only fathom to be compassion. "There is nothing for you to be sorry about. And I believe I told you long ago to call me Severus."

His last words brought a wane smile to her face. She suddenly felt very foolish for having cried on his shoulder, even though she knew she needed the comfort. She twisted her head to look at Theodore once more and realized painfully that she had forgotten about the contact between the back of her head and the desk.

"Ssssss" she seethed with a clenched jaw between closed teeth.

"What is it?" he asked her in a concerned voice.

"My head… I smacked it on the desk… ow..." she said as she closed her eyes and tried to still her head in order to dull the pain.

"Stay still." He instructed.

He swept her hair off her back and brought it to rest on the front of her body over her right shoulder. He touched her shoulders lightly from behind and twisted her body sideways so that he could better reach the back of her head.

She sensed him raise his wand hand and instantly felt a breezy, cool sensation on the part of her head that had been throbbing. As the frosty sensation left her, she found that she was no longer in pain. She straightened herself out again so that her body was facing forward toward Snape once more.

"Thank you." She whispered to him.

He brushed the hair off of her shoulder and replaced it to its former location on her back. Noticing the few strands of hair that were stuck to her face from the tears she had been shedding for the last several moments, he brushed them aside with a gentle hand. The stubborn hairs seemed to be glued to her cheeks, so he tucked them behind her ears with his index and middle fingers.

"There is no need to thank me." He told her gently.

"What about _him_?" she said with distaste, motioning toward the passed-out Theodore on the floor.

"I will notify Zebediah of this incident as soon as you are safely back. I doubt very much that Theodore will remain in his apprenticeship for longer than today." He said with a smirk.

She sniffed lightly, and instinctively leaned to the side in order to access the handkerchief in the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out and wiped her eyes, followed by her cheeks and her nose.

He stared at the piece of cloth with a confused look for a moment, then brought his indifferent eyes up to Hermione.

She flushed when she realized that it was his handkerchief she was using. She probably should have insisted on giving it back a long time ago…

"I'm sorry… you said I could keep it…" she muttered to him with a guilty look on her face.

"I know." He replied simply.

He twisted his head to look at the man on the floor, then brought his gaze back to Hermione.

"We need to get you back to the apartment." He said. "Come, I will take you."

…………………………….

He must have sensed her urgency to get back, because he apparated her there right from the shop.

She sat on the couch and waited as he apparated back to the shop and took care of Theodore. She made sure to tell him the location of the pen camera, reminding him to bring it back with him, as it contained, after all, a recording of the whole reason they had come here in the first place.

He returned roughly thirty minutes later and informed her that not only had he contacted the local ministry about Theodore, but he had also sent an owl to Zebediah informing him of everything that had taken place that morning. He was highly confident that Theodore's career as a Wand Maker would be over before it started.

She thanked him over and over while she packed to leave, each time earning her a glare from Snape with an instruction that she '_need not thank him'_.

As she tucked the last of her things away in her trunk, a thought occurred to her.

"Professor?" she asked Snape from behind as he twisted his head and glared at her. "I mean… Severus?" she blushed.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Where am I going?"

He looked at her over his shoulder with a raised brow for a moment before answering. "You do not expect me to complete the activation spell on my own, having never seen it performed, do you?"

Her lips curled into a small smile and she shook her head lightly at him.

"Of course," he answered, turning his head around to face away from her as he returned to his task of warding the windows, "if you would rather go back to Minerva…"

She didn't shout refusals at the suggestion. She could tell by his tone that he was playing with her.

"You know I would not." She answered smoothly.

"Well, then, It appears as though I am stuck with you for the next couple of days." He replied.

She stuck her tongue out at him sarcastically behind his back.

"I saw that." He said immediately.

"I know you did." She smirked.

He turned around to face her and gave her an impressed look. "Indeed."

……………………………..

The potion, naturally, had finished hours ago. Snape had already settled it with a stasis spell in anticipation of using it to cure the centaur hair. All the hair needed was one hour of soaking before it would be ready for insertion into the wand.

Hermione fetched the hair from its vial located underneath the cabinet at the far end of the room, and brought it to the stilled cauldron. Snape placed it in the curing solution and set the sand-timer that he kept beneath the lab table.

"One hour." He told her plainly. "Would you care for something to eat while we wait?"

She had completely forgotten that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

"Actually, that would be wonderful. I'm starving." She told him

He smirked at her and led her into the kitchen where he conjured the same dinette table and chairs as he always did. It was past lunch time, but not quite dinner time, so he offered to conjure them a couple of sandwiches and a bowl of soup. She gratefully agreed.

As they ate their meals she thought about something that Theodore had told her the previous night.

"Professor?" she asked, as he blatantly ignored her and stared into his soup.

'_Oh… right.'_

"Severus?" she questioned, earning her a smirk as he glanced up at her.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Theod- erm… _Smith_ told me something, yesterday." she began, choosing to use his last name in place of his first. Now that she was referring to Snape as 'Severus,' she saw it unfitting to call that other bastard by his informal name.

"And you want to regale me with tales of his triumphs, even still?" he asked her sarcastically while staring at her with an arched brow.

She chuckled lightly. "No, no, of course not. I was just wondering… why you didn't tell me that your mother was the Wand Maker that you once knew…"

He reverted to staring into his soup as if he hadn't heard her, for several seconds. Eventually, he set his spoon down on his napkin and looked up at her.

"My mother…" he began, then looked at his spoon for a moment before returning his gaze to Hermione. "My mother was an apprentice Wand Maker. A brilliant one, in fact." He paused.

"So I've heard." She confirmed encouragingly.

He smiled slightly at her comment. "She gave up her career before it started. Therefore, there was no need to mention it."

"Why?" she asked him.

"Why, what?" he questioned back.

"Why did she give it up? From what I've heard, she was offered a full certification after only six years… Why go that far and just walk away from everything?"

He had found interest in his soup again. "Some things are just not meant to be." He said solemnly.

She wondered if she should push her luck…

"What of your father?" she asked.

At that question, his eyes snapped up at her. He stared at her for several seconds without saying a word. Just as she thought she had gone too far, he relaxed slightly, shifting his gaze back to his spoon.

"Not everyone can be so fortunate as you have been with your family, Hermione." He fiddled with his spoon again. "Some people were just not meant to be parents."

She wanted to know more… _so much more_… but she didn't want to push her luck and offend him, either. With that thought, the sand timer in the other room ran out, emitting a puff of smoke in to the air. Had it really been an hour already?

They both stood from the table and made for the laboratory, Hermione lingering for just a minute to clear away the remnants of their dinner, along with the table and chairs. She joined Snape at the cauldron and watched carefully as he extracted the hair with his wand and levitated it over the table.

"If you would not mind…" he directed to Hermione, pointing to the wand base at the opposite end of the table.

She reached for the wand and made to hand it to Snape, but he only shook his head and said "On the table, please."

She placed the object on the table and smiled inwardly at his use of the word 'please.' He almost never used niceties in their conversations.

Using a spell that she had never heard before, he had the centaur hair pull itself through the end of the wand down to the tip, and seal itself at both ends. The second part of their task was complete. All that was left was the activation spell.

"I believe it is in our best interests to view the recording at this point." He droned.

As he pulled the pen camera from his robe pocket, a feeling of foreboding came over her. The reality of what had happened to her that day hit her- and it hit hard. She found herself taking a few steps back from the object and could feel the nervousness creep through her once more.

For some reason unbeknownst to herself, she began sobbing maniacally. The image of her attacker coming at her was once again fresh in her mind. He must have noticed her sobs… how could he not? She was hysterical! He turned to face her with a look of exasperated confusion.

"For Merlin's sake, woman! Why are you-" He stopped mid-sentence, apparently realizing her reason for being so emotional.

"I'm so stupid!" she cried, lowering her eyes to the floor.

He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to meet his eyes. "You are not stupid, Hermione."

"I should have known!" she screamed. "I should have done… done _something_! I should have defended myself! I feel so… so… _incompetent_!"

He kept his fingers under her chin, forcing her to keep her eyes fixed on his. "You are far from incompetent."

"I let him get the better of me! I almost- he could have-"

"But he did not." He interrupted her. "You were, very recently, able to fool the most powerful wizard of all time, Hermione. You are far from incompetent. We all make mistakes."

"But I _knew_! I had these… these _feelings_… the whole time! Something wasn't right… But I let myself get cornered anyway. I let him get too close…" she looked dismayed.

"Yes. And you have learned your lesson. As I said, we all make mistakes." He told her soothingly.

"What would you know about mistakes?" she asked him, absently curling a shaking finger around one of the loosely hanging curls draped in front of her ear. "You _never_ make mistakes. You're perfect."

He stared at her with a raised brow.

"Oh…" she started as she realized how unjustified her statement was. "Oh, I'm so sorry… Of course… But I didn't think… It was so long ago…"

"And I am still paying for it." He said in an irritated voice as he released her chin gently, confident she would keep his gaze without his assistance. He was right. "Consider yourself lucky that your mistake is over and done with."

"I just… I…" tears welled in her eyes again. "I feel so _stupid_!"

"If you refer to yourself as stupid again, I shall be forced to hex you." He said threateningly.

A small smirk appeared on her face.

"You doubt me?" he asked mockingly.

She broke into a fit of small giggles as he watched him keep his brow raised steadily at her in a mock-threat.

She didn't know what came over her… she supposed she just needed some form of comfort… someone to make her feel safe again.

She flung her arms around his waist, threaded underneath his elbows. She heard his quick intake of breath as she squeezed him tightly.

"Thank you." She breathed.

She felt him relax under her grasp, as his arms moved around her back. He wasn't quite hugging her- it was more of a light touch on her back between her shoulder blades- but it was enough.

As she stood there, wrapped in the hesitant arms of her rescuer, she felt her worries fade away. She relaxed slightly in his arms, as she heard him say softly, "You are welcome."


	13. Chapter Twelve: Home Sweet Home

**Chapter Twelve: Home Sweet Home**

Hermione composed herself and apparated to the burrow to borrow a muggle television set from Arthur Weasley. She was inwardly glad that Mrs. Weasley was not home. Had the woman been at the house, Hermione was sure she would not have gotten out of there anytime before midnight. Snape left the task of connecting the equipment to Hermione. Seeing as her parents were muggles themselves, she had no problems assembling it correctly.

They spent the remainder of the evening into the early hours of the morning studying the recording. The wand movements were difficult to make out, as Theodore was facing away from the camera when he made them. For the first hour or so Hermione had a hard time watching the recording. Standing there, watching the man who attacked her, through a television screen, had almost been too much for her. Eventually, she pushed her emotions aside. After several hours of meticulous note-taking and discussion, Snape and Hermione felt that they had finally interpreted all of the wand movements correctly.

"Should we give it a go?" She asked excitedly, once they had finished going over their notes together for what seemed like the hundredth time.

He made a noncommittal noise and stood for a moment, surveying the wand on the table in front of them. "No. The spell is too complicated to attempt without proper rest. We will proceed in the morning."

She made a show of hiding her disappointment, but eventually agreed. "I suppose you're right…"

He cocked a brow at her and she felt herself blush. "You're right." She conceded.

They cleaned up their work area and organized their notes. Just as Snape put away the last vial of bubotuber puss, she paused to ask him a question.

"Sir-er-Severus?"

He cocked an eyebrow with an entirely amused look on his face. "Sir Severus?"

She blushed furiously and dropped her gaze to her shuffling feet. "I, uh, I was going to say 'Sir,' but then I sort of… blended it… with Severus…"

He turned around fully to face her and gave her a bemused scowl. "Well, Hermione, I am not a knight. Therefore, I am not to be referred to as 'Sir-' anything. A simple 'sir' or 'Severus' will do. Now, what were you going to ask me?"

"I was just wondering if you would allow me to try the incantation myself, tomorrow. It's just that… it's just such an enormous opportunity…"

He considered her for a moment over the bridge of his nose. "That will be fine." He turned back to the work table in front of him and scooped up his notes, compulsively organizing them into a neat pile in his arms. "However," he said, turning round to face her again, "time is of the essence with this project. If you are unable to perform the spell correctly during your first attempt, I shall have to interject and pursue the matter on my own. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. Quite."

"Fine. Now, get some rest." He said, shooing her out of the room.

…………………………..

"Severus, you know how important this is to the Order! I am asking you to do this for us. I realize that your freedom has been limited for quite some time now, but we need you! If the attack actually happens, we will need you there with us!"

Hermione awoke with a start at the sound of yelling coming from downstairs. She sat up in her bed and listened intently to the conversation taking place below her.

"I realize that, Minerva. I still do not see any reason to consent to this. I could apparate there as soon as something-"

"No, Severus, you could not. You would be apparating outside of the gates, and by the time you reached the castle, it could be too late." Minerva interrupted sternly.

Hermione smiled inwardly as she remembered all the times that she had told Ron and Harry about the anti-apparition wards on the castle. Perhaps someday they would finally read '_Hogwart's, A History'_… though she sincerely doubted it.

"Besides," the older witch continued, "Poppy has not had anyone to replenish the hospital potions in quite some time. The list is becoming rather atrocious."

There was a short pause before Snape answered her. "That was supposed to be the girl's assignment, not mine. I am not a common shop keeper, Minerva."

"Severus, _please_." McGongall sounded desperate now. "Even if she does attempt to brew the hospital potions, she will need someone to instruct her."

"That is no longer my job!" Snape snapped at her.

"No, Severus, it is not." McGongall answered calmly. "Your job is to assist the order in any ways that you are capable. You vowed that particular promise a long time ago. Your assistance is required at Hogwarts. I will hear no more on the subject. I shall expect you both there by the end of the day."

Hermione heard several soft footsteps leading from what she thought was the kitchen to the front door, followed by the sound of the entry way shutting, and locks sealing in to place. She tugged back her bed covers and swiveled her feet to the floor, before walking slowly out of the bedroom and to the stairway. She peered down the tunnel of steps and listened for any sounds of Snape making his way toward her before gently walking to the bottom of the staircase.

She peeked around the corner and saw Snape standing in the kitchen with his back to her, arms crossed at his chest, apparently staring interestedly at an undetermined spot on the wall in front of him.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" He called to her without turning around.

She blushed with embarrassment as she left the stairwell and met Snape in the kitchen. He was still looking away from her.

"How much did you hear?" He asked her with his back to her.

"All of it, I think, sir." She answered. "Are we going back to Hogwarts?"

"It would appear that way." He answered, turning around to face her with his usual glare.

"What about the activation spell, sir?" She asked quietly, doing her best not to accelerate his already sour mood.

"We will finish that here, and remove ourselves to the school when we the task is completed." He told her.

"Sir, what attack was-"

"We will discuss that later. Right now, we have a wand to finish." He told her.

He paused to look properly at her now, noticing the fact that she was in her night gown instead of her usual daytime attire.

Apparently his looks brought that realization to her as well. She blushed as she looked down at her thin white night dress, looking up at him to see a cocked, scrutinizing brow staring back at her.

"I'll just go change first…" She mumbled as she dashed from the room, trying not to look too embarrassed.

…………………………………

When she returned to the laboratory, Snape had already cleared the table of all of its usual adornments. The would-be wand was placed neatly in the center of the table and the notes were spread carefully around the edges, spanning the entire length of the long, smooth surface.

"Are you certain that you wish to attempt this? Even with a shield charm, it could be dangerous…" He asked her.

"Positive." She said with a gush of excitement.

"Very well, then." He said, taking a step back from the table and motioning with his arm for her to do the same. "Ready your wand. I will cast the shield charm, and then you may begin."

She waited for him to cast the shield charm, then took a hesitant step back before raising her own wand. She made the movements slowly, a swish with a "Dirindito," a jab with a "Crescendo," a flick with a "Dippindiendo."

The moments passed slowly as all the colors of the rainbow leapt from her wand to the sleek, smooth rod on the table before her. She hadn't realized that the task would be so draining. She felt herself weaken with every incantation she articulated. Eventually she had verbalized every spell but one, and with one, final "Partonum Requaintus," a thin whisp of grey jumped from her wand and immersed itself in its target. The wand glowed a pale white for a brief moment, then steadied itself as it was before she began.

Snape dropped his shield charm and studied the wand for a moment before turning to Hermione.

"Should I…" She trailed off quietly.

"No. I will do it. A shield charm, if you would." He replied.

She placed a shield charm around herself and took a step back, bringing it with her the few feet that she had stepped. She watched as Snape stood over the wand, performing a few detection spells with his own wand before placing it on the table and picking the new one up gingerly.

"Expecto Patronum" He incanted loudly, holding the wand straight in front of him, away from Hermione. A large, dark grey hawk escaped from the tip of the wand, a long string of whispy gray trailing it from the rear. It soared powerfully around the room several times before stopping in front of Snape. The massive translucent bird sat in mid-air, seemingly staring at Snape for several seconds, before giving a deep, respectful bow in Snape's direction. At that point, Snape lowered the wand, and the massive shimmering bird disintegrated into thin air.

Hermione waited for Snape to indicate that he wished her to lower the shield charm. After staring at the spot where the avian patronus had been, he gave a curt nod in her direction, signaling for her to lower her wand.

"Well?" She asked with an air of anticipation in her voice.

He glared at her for several seconds, and, for a moment, she thought he was going to give her bad news. Just when she had opened her mouth to speak again, he donned a satisfied smirk, and told her what she had been waiting to hear.

"It works." He said in a relieved voice.

She gave him a broad smile and actually considered hugging him, but then thought better of it. She had gotten away with it twice already--- she was not about to push her luck.

"I guess I'd better go pack my things." She remarked to him as she left the room with a satisfied smile on her face.

They had done it. The wand was completed and they could finally hand it over to the Order. An overwhelming sense of relief manifested itself in her chest as she made the short journey from the laboratory to her room. As she ascended the stairs, she began to feel the weakness from earlier course through her body once more. Apparently the activation spell had been more draining than she originally thought.

She rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and walked swiftly into her bedroom. She began to neatly tuck away her robes and other articles of clothing into her trunk when she felt a wave of nausea hit her. She sat down carefully on the floor and leaned her back against the side of the bed, trying to settle her nerves.

"It happens sometimes, when one is performing a spell of particular difficulty." Came Snape's smooth voice from the doorway.

"I'll be ok." She replied, leaning her head down against her knees.

She sensed him hovering over her and raised her head to look at him. He was handing her a small pink vial with a cork stopper.

"It is a stomach calming draught. Drink it quickly. We are expected at the castle in less than twenty minutes." He told her.

She drank the entire contents of the bottle and sat still for a moment, letting the potion take affect. When she felt her stomach settle slightly, she handed the now empty container back to Snape and mumbled a soft "Thank you."

"Have you finished packing?" He questioned her.

"Almost. I just have to stow my books and I will be finished."

"Just your books?" He said with a cocked brow, glancing over the vast array of tomes spread about the floor. "So I should expect you downstairs in a couple of hours?"

She scowled for a second before she realized that he was jesting. With a sarcastic smile, she said "_Professor Snape_, did you just make a joke?"

"Absolutely not." He said, staring down at her with a grimace.

She was unsure of whether or not she was joking with his answer, and she didn't find out. Snape turned on his heels and swept out of the room, black, billowing robes trailing behind him.

She finished shrinking and stowing away her books and reading material, and did a quick sweep of the room for anything that she may have forgotten to pack.

She opened the drawer on the night stand next to the bed, and rediscovered the small, muggle radio. She had completely forgotten to ask Snape about its origins. Perhaps it had belonged to him as a child? She thought about the batteries that she had bought him for the device. They were packed away at the bottom of her trunk.

"Well, they won't be of much use to him if he has nothing to put them in." She said to herself.

She picked up the muggle radio and packed it safely away in her trunk, deciding that she would present the working device to him later in the evening, once they were safely back at Hogwarts.

She descended the stairs, trunk levitated easily in front of her, and met Snape in the living room.

"All set." She said jovially, pulling the trunk toward her with her wand.

"Yes, I can see that." He sneered at her. "Are you capable of apparating yourself, or do you require my assistance as usual?"

She frowned at him and stated evenly "I believe I can handle it, _sir_," putting an emphasis on the last word.

'_Somebody sure is grumpy today.'_ She thought to herself, wondering if he had gotten any sleep the previous night.

She levitated her trunk down next to her and wrapped an arm around the long, leather handles. Snape looked at her impatiently for a moment, then walked over to her and smacked his wand over the crown of her head.

"Hey!" She shouted indignantly, before she felt the icy coolness leaking down over her shoulders and onto her back, eventually reaching her heels. She looked herself over and found that he had placed a dissolusionment charm on her. He gave her an exasperated look and rolled his eyes before performing the same spell on himself. She chuckled lightly at the sight of the two of them, completely invisible, with the straps to their trunks seemingly holding themselves up straight into thin air.

She braced herself for what she knew was to come, and, with a sharp tug on her navel, she apparated herself directly in front of the great iron gates of Hogwarts.

……………………………..

A moment after she felt her feet plant firmly to the ground on the luscious grass that surrounded the lands of the school, she saw Snape's trunk come into view beside her, the straps appearing as though they were holding themselves up with no assistance.

"We are to leave our trunks here. Filch will be down to collect them shortly." She heard an invisible voice say beside her.

The gates seemed to open of their own accord, and the pair walked in silence up the barren pathway to the castle in the distance. When they reached the front entryway, the doors once again appeared to open by themselves, and Hermione hesitated before entering.

"We do not have all day…" She heard Snape say to her with a hint of irritation in his voice.

She scowled invisibly and made her way through the doors, walking gingerly down the hallway towards the Headmistress's office. She approached the stone gargoyle and realized that she did not know the new password. She waited for a moment for Snape to gain them admittance.

"Liquorish Whips." He said with a great deal of distaste.

Hermione couldn't restrain a chuckle. Her former Headmaster had always insisted on using the names of muggle sweets for his passwords. She was slightly surprised that the new Headmistress felt compelled to continue the tradition.

Apparently Snape guessed her thoughts from the badly concealed chuckle, because he said quietly to her "Minerva believes it is an honor to his memory to keep the passwords as he would have made them." He snorted. "Ridiculous."

The stone gargoyle leapt out of the way at Snape's command, and, with a tap on the both of their heads, Snape lifted both dissolusionment charms as they ascended the constantly moving stairway up to Headmistress McGongall's office.

"Ah, Severus… Hermione… do come in." McGongall greeted them as they approached the entryway at the peak of their ascent.

"Hello, Minerva." Snape drawled, entering the room and taking a seat in front of the large, oak desk.

Hermione entered and gave the older woman a warm hug before sitting in the open chair next to Snape. This was the first time she had been in the Head office since the time of Dumbledore's death. The office looked comfortingly familiar to her, though a few things had changed since the last time she had been in it. The odd metal contraptions were still clicking and whizzing away on the shelves and walls, and the basic color scheme remained, not surprisingly, quite Gryffindor.

The photographs on the walls still pretended to sleep when guests were among them, it seemed. She spotted Phineas Nigellus in the far right corner of the room, shamelessly pretending to snore with a preposterous volume. Dumbledore's portrait was also feigning sleep, though she noticed when she looked up at him, he gave her a small, knowing wink.

The only real difference in the office was the ambiance of the desk. The large bowls filled with Sherbert Lemons, Acid Pops and Cockroach Clusters were gone. In their place was a large box of honey biscuit crackers and last year's House Cup. Apparently McGongall had retained her position as Head of Gryffindor House, even though she had graduated to 'Headmistress' in place of 'professor'.

Hermione felt a slight pang in her heart as she looked to the spot rear to the back of the desk where Fawkes' perch used to be. She wondered what had become of the magical bird…

"I am assuming that you have filled our young Hermione in on the circumstances at hand, Severus?" Minerva's voice brought her out of her reverie.

"No, Minerva, I have not. As I told you this morning, enlightening students is no longer my job." Severus told her with a scowl.

McGongall looked as if she was going to continue the argument, but apparently thought better of it, and turned a warm face to Hermione.

"Hermione, dear. Have a biscuit." McGongall said, holding out the pale wooden box to her.

Hermione took one and brought it to her mouth, in spite of the fact that she didn't really like this particular treat. The older woman always seemed somewhat offended when anyone refused her biscuits. Snape didn't seem to care. He waived the woman's offer off without so much as a _'No, thank you.'_

"Well, I suppose I should tell you why you are here, dear." McGongall said to her as she replaced the box of biscuits to the desk. "As you know, it is not safe for you to be seen outside of Hogwarts. As a matter of fact, you should refrain from being seen while you are here as well. Though, that should not be a problem."

She paused, taking a bite out of the biscuit she was holding, then continued. "There are several Order members stationed here at the castle, and I feel that you would be safest here with us. We have added a private quarters on to the dungeon area for you to reside in for the time being. We would also like to ask you a… favor…"

McGongall gave Hermione a welcoming look and, noticing that she was done with her biscuit, offered her another. She declined, and sat a little straighter in her chair.

"Madam Pomfrey is in need of a brewer for the Hospital Wing. Some of the potions you may already know how to produce, and some you may not. All of them can be found in the '_Most Potent Potions'_ textbook." She stopped to study Hermione's face before continuing. "It would be a great help to the school if-"

"It's ok, Minerva." Hermione interjected. "I would be delighted to do it. Anything to help."

McGongall donned a wide grin and nodded a polite thank you in Hermione's direction.

"Now, Severus," McGongall said, turning slightly in her chair to face Snape. "I realize that you find this arrangement somewhat inconvenient. However, Hermione is going to be quite busy with the potions for the hospital wing, and I am sure that she will be no bother to you."

Hermione creased her brows downward in confusion. "Arrangement?" she questioned the two parties in front of her.

"Severus, are you serious?" McGongall said tersely. "You told her _nothing_?"

"This is your little project, Minerva." Snape sneered at her. "I shall leave the details to you."

McGongall glared at Snape before turning to Hermione once again. "Hermione, dear." McGongall started cautiously. "Severus will be staying with us as well."

Hermione merely shrugged her shoulders at the information. She could have cared less if Snape stayed at Hogwarts. He could be a big help to her with the potions, and, when he was not berating her, could actually be quite pleasant.

McGongall smiled at her. "You are mature beyond your years, Hermione. I am very proud of you. Maybe Severus here should follow your lead."

Snape gave an overly loud snort and crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning his head away from the two women.

"So, if there is nothing left to discuss, I'm sure Severus will be more than happy to escort you to your new quarters." Minerva told her as she stood up out of her chair.

"That's ok. I'm sure I can find them on my own." Hermione answered her.

Snape stood from his chair and brushed the wrinkles out of his robes. "Is there really any need to discuss this? We are going to the same location." He snapped at them with a glare.

Hermione looked from Minerva to Snape and dropped her jaw. "You are staying in the dungeons too?" She gasped loudly.

"Obviously." He drawled.

"But- but, I thought you would be… I didn't think you were going to live in the dungeons!"

"Where else would I reside, Miss Granger?" He scowled at her. She could tell he was becoming irritated. He had called her _'Miss Granger'_ instead of _'Hermione.'_

"As I said," Minerva interrupted calmly, "I have affixed additional rooms for you, Hermione. They are on the opposite side of the Potion's laboratory to Severus'. You needn't even speak to one another, if you do not wish to. I would like to think that you would, however. Two minds such as yours would be a shame to keep isolated from one another. The classroom has been moved, so as to not intrude on either of your privacies."

Hermione smiled and Snape snorted, effectively wiping the smile off of her face.

Minerva stepped in front of Hermione and pointed to the fire place. "It will be easiest to floo to the rooms, Hermione. I have adjusted the wards to respond to three locations. You may either call out 'Hermione's quarters,' 'Potions laboratory,' or 'Severus' quarters.'"

"You would do well to confine yourself to the first two." Snape sneered at her.

Hermione gave him an evil look and grabbed a handful of floo powder from a bowl on the mantle above the fire place.

"Thank you, Minerva." Hermione said to her, before tossing the floo powder into the fire.

"Hermione's quarters!" she called, stepping in to the bright green hearth.

The room was much as she expected it to be. McGongall had decorated it in brilliant scarlet and gold. Even the carpet was a warm, maroon and black berber. The walls were eggshell white but were trimmed in a pale red, decorated here and there with paintings of landscapes and waterfalls.

There was a large, red couch and a matching arm chair placed in front of the fireplace. An oversized, antique oak desk sat against the left wall and was generously scattered with piles of parchment and a tall vase containing an assortment of different colored quills.

She walked toward the door on the right side of the room and opened it to find her sleeping quarters. It was decorated very similar to her sitting area- an explosion of scarlet and gold. The four poster bed was almost an exact replica of the one she had known while attending Hogwarts as a student. The only difference was that this bed was much, much larger. She equated its size with a muggle California King bed. The curtains were even the same deep maroon that had adorned her four poster when she was younger.

On the floor at the end of her bed was her trunk. She commented to herself how quickly the retrieval of her items had been, even for Filch.

The only furniture besides the bed was a nightstand to its right, a small armchair to its left, and a humongous oak wardrobe against the right wall of the room.

There was no fire place in this room, as there had been in Snape's bedroom, but there were windows, so she felt it was an even trade. Knowing that she was in the dungeons made her realize that the windows must have been charmed to give the illusion that they viewed the outdoors. She didn't mind. Even fake windows were better than none.

The bathroom was the only room out of the three that was not a tribute to Gryffindor House. It was plain, sparkling white, trimmed in pale green. There was a bath/shower combination in the corner of the room, and a medicine cabinet for her to keep all of her toiletries.

She exited the bathroom and accio'd her trunk, opening it in front of the massive oak wardrobe, and began to unpack her belongings. She came across the muggle radio that she had taken for Severus and jumped as a thought occurred to her.

"Oh no! His quarters! The colors!" She gasped.

She ran through her rooms and across the private potions lab, berating herself for not thinking to change the colors in Snape's rooms before he arrived in them.

She stopped at the closed door to his private quarters and hesitated, before knocking softly. There was no answer. She breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that he apparently had not arrived yet.

"Alohomora" she stated firmly, thankful that outer door was not warded.

"Do you _ever_ knock?" Snape said to her as the door swung open to reveal to him a very startled, very embarrassed Hermione.

"I'm sorry, sir, I just wanted to fix-"

"The colors. Yes." Snape interrupted her, "As much as I enjoy staring at _your_ house colors all day long, I have opted to change them myself. I am ever so _grateful_ for your concern, though." He finished in an irritated tone.

"Sorry, sir."

"To be quite honest, I do not recall giving you permission to change them in the first place." He scowled at her.

She took a step forward and began "Professor McGongall-"

"Professor McGongall," He half-shouted at her, "does not have to reside here. I, unfortunately, do."

He made a show of smoothing out his robes before he looked up at her again. "That will be all, Miss Granger. Your services are, obviously, not needed here."

She had had just about enough of his attitude. They were going to be living in very close proximity to one another, after all. Why shouldn't they try to be friends? They had gotten along just fine the day before…

"Why are you always like this?" She asked him irritably.

"What?" He replied with a furrowed brow.

"Why can't you just be nice?" She asked him in a more even tone this time. "We are going to be living quite close to each other for some time. And, if things are anything like they were the last time I was here, we won't be able to leave the dungeons. It would be nice to have someone to converse with, at least."

He looked as if he were going to lash out at her for a moment, but then his brows settled and his sneer faded from his face. With an altogether considerate look, he turned back towards her and spoke.

"You have a good point, Hermione." He said to her, causing her to smile as he reverted to using her first name again. "I apologize for my attitude as of late. I was not planning on returning to Hogwarts… at least, not to stay."

"I understand." She said kindly.

"As it were, our confinement will not be necessary as it was when you were here last." He stated plainly.

She gave him a questioning look and he continued.

"Miss Tonks will be with us shortly to teach you the less difficult points of magical appearance alteration."

She gawked at him as she spoke, "Appearance alteration! But that's- that's ministry level magic! You don't usually learn those spells until Auror schooling!"

"Correct." He smirked at her. "Minerva felt it necessary to have you learn the finer points of appearance alteration if you are to reside here at length. It would be quite irksome to be confined to these simple rooms for any extended period of time."

"What about you, sir?" She questioned him.

"I will be altering my appearance as well." He replied.

"Will you be learning from Tonks also?" She asked, but realized that her question was probably an ignorant one. She was sure that Snape, of all people, would be well skilled in appearance alteration.

"I am quite capable of the spells, thank you, but there is no need for me to use them." He told her indifferently.

"Why, sir?" She questioned. It sounded as if he was planning on confining himself to the dungeons alone. She knew, from experience, just how boring that avenue would be to take.

He smirked at her once more before taking a few strides in her direction. When he was close enough for her to see him fully, he stopped and looked straight at her.

She watched as he squinted his eyes as if in some sort of pain, then gasped at what she saw. His hair withdrew slowly into his scalp until it was as short as Draco's had been in their fourth year, though it kept its raven color and ravenous shine. His eyes changed from onyx black to light blue, and his nose receded into his nasal cavity until it was, in contrast to its normal form, quite small. His skin darkened slightly so that he held the appearance of someone who had spent a week in the Carribean.

"You're a metamorphmagus!" She gasped at him.

"Thank you for stating the obvious." He said to her with a playful smirk.

"I didn't know that about you!" She said, the surprised look still plastered on her face.

"There are many things you do not know about me." He stated plainly.

She smiled at him and noticed that he had forgotten to change the frame of one of the paintings on the wall behind him from scarlet Gryffindor to Slytherin green. She took it upon herself to correct the problem.

"Calimorphus" she uttered as she pointed her wand to the largest picture on the wall.

He gave her a questioning look and she said "You missed a spot," with a grin on her face.

She smiled thinking to herself, _'Maybe this isn't going to be so bad after all…'_

…………………………..

Hermione and Tonks had been sitting in Hermione's living room for hours. She still could not believe that the Order was allowing her to learn Ministry level magic with no post educational training under her belt. Considering her lack of experience in the area, she felt she was doing quite well. So far, she had been able to change her hair color from brown to blonde, the texture from curly to straight, and her eyes from hazel to green. She was having difficulty with changing her skin tone, which Tonks had informed her was the most difficult point of appearance alteration. As it was important to look as un-Hermione-ish as possible whilst roaming about the castle, Tonks insisted on practicing the spell until she was able to perform it correctly.

She managed a successful attempt at the skin color charm shortly before supper time. Her skin turned a mild shade darker, giving her a sun-kissed look. Her stomach growled and Tonks gave her a knowing look as she rose from her spot on the couch opposite Hermione's chair.

"I s'pose we should be off to supper then?" Tonks asked her happily.

"Yes, I'm absolutely starving." Hermione replied with a grateful look. "Er… Tonks?"

"Yes?"

"Are we sitting with the students?"

Tonks laughed heartily and wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Absolutely not, mate! You're at the head table with the rest of us."

Hermione gave her a questioning look. The head table was for Hogwarts staff. Tonks was not, as far as she knew anyways, an instructor of anything.

"Minerva's got it all planned out. Don't worry! I'll explain it on the way." Tonks said, opening the chamber door that led to the potions lab.

Just as they were exiting the living room they spotted Snape also stepping into the private potions laboratory from his side of the dungeons.

"Wotcher, Sevvie!" Tonks called to Snape.

Snape scowled at the audacious witch. "I have asked you, repeatedly, Nymphadora, not to call me that."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at Tonks' nickname for him. She was quite sure that no one in Snape's entire life had ever referred to him as '_Sevvie_.'

Tonks frowned at him as she and Hermione made their way towards him. "It's Tonks, mate. Just 'Tonks.'"

Snape glared at her. "I apologize, I did not realize that you had a preference as to what name you are referred to by. I suppose you wish me to respect your wishes as far as titles are concerned."

Tonks took the hint. "Yes, _Severus._ I would, thank you."

"Interesting look." Snape said to Hermione as she and Tonks reached his location in the center of the potions laboratory.

"Do you like it?" Hermione asked childishly.

He only glared at her with furrowed brows and walked ahead of the two women and out the door that led to the dungeons hallway.

"I'll take that as a no…" She said out loud, rolling her eyes at Tonks.

"Told you 'e was a git." Tonks replied, earning a hearty laugh from Hermione.

The two women walked side by side to the great hall, making comments about the lack of photographs in the dungeons, and giggling at the many odd jokes and quips that Tonks said out loud along the way. The castle hadn't changed at all since Hermione had been there last. The paintings on the walls all moved as they had before and the staircases changed of their own accord. Even Peeves hadn't changed since the last time she had been there. This was quite evident when she and Tonks had to duck into an alcove in order to avoid a water balloon that Peeves had strategically aimed at Hermione's head.

"Nice to see you again, too, Peeves!" She had shouted at him angrily.

As they approached the entrance to the dining hall Hermione hesitated and pulled Tonks aside. "Tonks, the students are under the impression that my position with the school is- what- exactly?"

Tonks smirked at her. "Minerva's told everyone that you're Slughorn's potions apprentice. We're all to refer to you as 'Miss Crookshanks.'"

Hermione chuckled. "Crookshanks, huh? I suppose you came up with the pseudonym?"

Tonks laughed and smiled back at her. "Thought you'd like that one. I'm at the head table too, as I sub for Minerva with her Transfiguration classes every now and then, in between my Order duties, that is." Tonks looked around to make sure that they could not be overheard, then continued. "Ol' Sevvie is going to be referred to as 'Mr. Grant' He's supposed to be an Official sent here by the Ministry to make sure things are all on the up and up."

Hermione felt that was a believable story. Umbridge, after all, had been sent to Hogwarts by the ministry to keep an eye on Dumbledore in Hermione's fifth year. Granted, the old hag had been forced upon the former Headmaster, but she had been present, nonetheless.

Hermione took her time reacquainting herself with the surroundings of the great hall. The enchanted ceiling was, familiarly, still enchanted. She found comfort in the fact that it was currently mirroring a bright, cloudless summer's day. The students, almost blissfully unaware of the goings on of the world outside of Hogwarts, sat at their individual house tables, indulging in the scrumptious food that was a signature of Hogwarts.

She made her way up the center aisle of the great hall, Tonks at her side, staring longingly at the students surrounding her. What she wouldn't give to be an ignorant first year again, with not a care in the world other than her studies and her friends.

Just as Hermione ascended the stairs to take her seat, she froze in her tracks. A dark, handsome man that she knew all too well was standing right in front of her, a broad smile on his face.

"Hello, Hermimonee."


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Induction

Alright, so my last chapter was dedicated to Videl621, who took the time to review after _every_ chapter, even though she read the whole thing in one night (can you believe that?)! Now, this chapter is dedicated to Bobsessor Queen, who has already read all of the posted chapters so far, but decided to go back and reread them, only to give me inspiration to continue writing. She requested that I post again right away… what could I say? I'm a sucker for feedback. But, alas, I cannot keep posting once per day… I fear I will lose readers that way. So this post is going up, dedicated to all of my wonderfully amazing readers and reviewers, Bobessor Queen in particular, and I will post again once I finish chapter seventeen. I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you all once again for reading and reviewing. Without you, I would have no reason to continue.

………………………………..

**Chapter Thirteen: Induction**

"Hello, Hermimonee." Viktor whispered to her, smiling brightly and extending a hand to help her up the final step.

"Viktor!" She nearly yelled. "What are you doing here?"

"I teach dee Devense Against dee Dark Arts." He told her proudly, moving over a seat so that Hermione could sit between him and Tonks.

"But… before… you suggested I go to Durmstrang with you." She stuttered.

"Yes, I do not reside here. I haf a special portkey dat takes me do and vrom dee school." He answered.

"Oh. Er… how lovely." She lied.

'_Great. Just what I needed.' _

She searched the rest of the head table and found that all the other members of staff were present as well. Neville had the seat on the end, followed by Luna (who was supposed to be assisting him), Professor Sinistra, Professor Trelawney, Firenze, Madam Pomfrey, Madam Hooch, Professor Flitwick, Professor Slughorn, Snape, Headmistress McGongall, Hagrid, Viktor, herself and Tonks. When she reached Snape's eyes, she could have sworn she caught him looking sharply away from her, as if he had been watching her up until the exact moment she turned in his direction.

She shrugged the thought off and tucked into her meal, laughing as she speared a potato with her fork when Tonks started her nose changing bit. Tonks ended it abruptly after a sharp glare from McGongall.

"No fun, these buggers, no fun at all" Tonks said to her, giving her a mischievous wink.

She kept her gaze on Tonks for the duration of the meal in an effort to avoid conversing with Viktor.

As the meal ended and the students began to shuffle out of the great hall, Hermione politely excused herself and headed down the center aisle toward the large, wooden doors. She had spent all of her time training with Tonks, and was yet to unpack any of her belongings. She also realized how tired she was, seeing as her sleep had been cut short that morning by McGongall's unexpected arrival.

Just before she reached the dining hall doors, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She was not surprised when she turned her head to see Viktor beaming at her from behind.

"Hermimonee," he stated clumsily, "Allow me doo valk you doo your rooms. We 'av much doo catch up on."

She smiled politely at him and nodded. _'Damn… So close.' _She thought to herself. She had almost made it through the doors before he caught her…

"So, Hermimonee," Viktor conversed as they walked, "are you 'appy doo be back at Hogwarts?" Viktor asked her.

"Yes, actually." She told him honestly. "I had missed the place quite a bit. It's nice to be around people again… even if it is under an appearance charm."

"You look lovely eeder vay, Hermimonee." Viktor told her, brushing the hair back from her shoulder as they walked.

"Er… thanks, Viktor." She replied.

In all honestly, she didn't really look _that_ different than she normally did. Her hair, eye and skin color had all changed, but she had left everything else as it had been. In all likelihood, no one outside of and Order member would notice it was her under the new hair and eye color.

They continued walking all the way to the other end of the castle. Viktor didn't say much. He seemed more interested in simply staring at her. She winced inwardly as she thought about their relationship during her fourth year at school. He had done the same thing then- just sat there in the library, watching her study.

They walked on through the stone corridors, down the endlessly descending steps that led to the basin that was the dungeons. When they reached the door that led to the potions laboratory, Hermione stopped to say goodnight.

"Thank you for walking me. I can take it from here." She said politely, opening the door with a soft "alohomora."

She would have to remember to ward the laboratory door to her preferences before she turned in for the night…

"You're velcome." Viktor said, taking her hand in his and kissing her lightly on the knuckles.

She didn't know what came over her, but she jerked her hand away and took an urgent step backwards. Her mind had returned to Theodore, and how he had kissed her hand as Viktor just did. She cringed at her outrageous actions. He was obviously going to ask questions… questions that she had no intention of answering.

"Hermimonee?" He asked in a concerned voice.

"Oh, er…" She had to think quickly. "I, er, burnt my hand… yesterday… on a potion. It's a little sensitive."

'_Please don't ask questions, please don't ask questions…'_

"Oh, vell you should see Madam Pomvrey for dat. I am sure she has something dat vill help." He smiled at her.

'_Phew.'_

"Thank you, Viktor, I'll think about it."

He smiled and left her at her door. She waited until he had reached the end of the hallway, then entered the potions lab and locked the door behind her.

She didn't know what had come over her. She supposed it was normal, to be a little jumpy after such an attack. She cringed as she thought of what may have happened to her if Snape hadn't shown up that morning when he had. She made a mental note to activate, charm to work in magical settings, and, if necessary, fix, that radio for him, the first chance she got. It was the least she could do after all that he had done for her.

She crossed the lab and walked through her sitting room and into her sleeping quarters. She continued her earlier task of unpacking her trunk, arranging her clothing neatly in the oversized wardrobe. Eventually, when all of her clothing was neatly unpacked, and her books were returned to normal size and arranged neatly in her bookcase, she removed one of the newly-stowed tomes and took up a seat on her couch and relaxed comfortably in front of the fireplace.

There was no exile from the troubles of life like the escape of engrossing herself in a good book. She had been relaxing quietly with _'Marsham's Guide to Modern Charms'_ for a little over an hour when she heard a knock at her chamber door. She rose and crossed the room gingerly, wondering who would be disturbing her _this time_.

She opened the door to reveal Tonks, her hair now a vivid shade of pink as opposed to the normal, soft brown it had been at dinner.

"Wotcher, Hermione!" She said, stepping over the threshold into the living room.

"Hello, Tonks." She answered.

"Brought you a bit of a celebratory present, 'ere." She said, pulling a long, black box out of the inside of her robes.

Tonks walked over to the couch and set the box down on the middle cushion, opening it with her fingernails as she did so. She pulled out a tall, clear bottle filled with amber liquid and handed it to Hermione.

"Ogden's Old Fire Whiskey…" Hermione read out loud. "_Fire Whiskey_?" She repeated, giving Tonks a very Snape-ish looking cocked brow.

"Oh, come on, now!" Tonks encouraged her, taking the bottle in her hand and conjuring two round goblets with her wand. "Just a bit a' fun on your first night back…"

Tonks poured a generous portion of the liquid into both of their glasses and took a seat on the couch, motioning for Hermione to do the same. She did, and hesitantly took the goblet from Tonks, bringing the rim of the glass to her nose and giving it a hearty sniff before lowering it again.

Hermione had come of age shortly after she had been captured by Lord Voldemort. There had been no birthday celebration, no presents, and, certainly, no Fire Whiskey. To be honest, the strongest thing that Hermione had ever had to drink was a butterbeer. Her fellow classmates had indulged in intoxicating beverages now and again, choosing to push their academic and extra curricular school endeavors by the wayside. Hermione, being the dedicated scholar that she was, had declined any offers to join them. Her studies were one thing that she had never put on the back burner- not even for a taste of premature adulthood.

"I don't know…" Hermione said apprehensively.

"It's just _Fire Whiskey_!" Tonks said rolling her eyes. "You're of age, now. Far past it, matter a' fact! Live a little!"

At the words _'live a little'_, Hermione's heart gave a little jolt. Tonks was right. She was lucky to be alive. Why shouldn't she indulge a little, now that she had been given the chance to do so?

She beamed at Tonks as she straightened her arm out in front of her, raising her goblet in a social gesture and clinking her glass with the one that Tonks was holding.

"Bottoms up!"

……………………………….

Several hours, and two refilling charms later, Hermione had successfully downed a full bottle of Fire Whiskey all by herself. Tonks, who seemed to be somewhat used to the scorching liquid, was slurring her sentences. Hermione, on the other hand, was absolutely annihilated.

"D'you z'spose we should- _hiccup!_ – get some – _hiccup! – _rest?" Tonks stuttered.

"NOOOOO!" Hermione yelled loudly for no particular reason. "We shzould go SKIING!"

"We should do what?" Tonks yelled back, laughing hysterically. "What zthe bloody hell isz zskiing?"

Hermione doubled over with laughter, then fell off of the sofa and landed butt-first onto the floor.

"Ok…" Tonks said, standing up from her seated position. "I'd better g- _hiccup!_ – go."

Hermione merely continued to laugh hysterically as Tonks made her way to the fire and vanished in a burst of bright green flames.

Hermione eventually stopped laughing and looked around at the room that was somewhat spinning in front of her. She finished what was left of the last bottle of Fire Whiskey and walked over to her desk in the corner of the room. In her intoxicated state, she (for some reason) found the quills in the vase before her absolutely hilarious, and broke out into another set of ferocious giggles.

Eventually, even those all-intriguing quills bored her, and she made her way through her chamber door and into the potions lab, stumbling slightly.

She sat down at a stool in front of one of the potions tables, eyeing the cabinet in the corner mischievously. She knew that cabinet. Every time Snape had caught someone in class (usually Harry or Ron) playing with something other than their cauldrons or potions books, he would confiscate it and lock it away in his, tall, black, wooden cabinet--- the same cabinet that she was staring at right now. She wondered for a moment why it was in the private potions lab instead of the classroom. Then she remembered that Professor Slughorn taught potions now, and the cabinet was probably removed from the classroom sometime after his appointment to the position.

She giggled to herself as she tip-toed over to the cabinet, her wand hanging loosely in her right hand.

"Alo – _hiccup! _- homora!" she whispered.

'_Damn! Ok… let's try that again…'_

"Alohomora!" She whispered louder this time, as the door to the cabinet clicked open.

She giggled again and peeked into the dark cabinet. "l-lumos!" she whispered, and, this time, the slurred incantation worked on the first try.

There was an amazing assortment of confiscated games and trinkets, taking up the majority of the shelf space within the cabinet. She smirked as she thought that Snape must have been confiscating items from students for at least a decade to accumulate such a collection.

She searched through the pile and settled on a small box with the words _'Wally Woozle's Exploding Snap Box'_. She brought the box over to one of the laboratory tables and opened it carefully as she sat plumply on the stool behind her.

She examined the box fastidiously, noting the carved name of _'Creevey'_ on the underside of the container. It appeared as though Collin had followed in Harry's footsteps after all…

She grinned sheepishly as she opened the box, smirking at the fact that not only had she broken into a cabinet that was not hers to open, but she had also taken confiscated materials from a teacher's keep-safe. Filch would have had a bird…

She threw the first small pebble to the floor, and nearly fell off her stool when a loud boom! emitted from its contact with the tile beneath it. She laughed out loud and picked up another, tossing it to the floor a few feet in front of her. By the time she had reached her fifth pebble, she was having more fun than she had bargained for.

She threw the sixth pebble to the floor and squealed gleefully at the noise it made. She was about to reach into the box for another when she nearly fell off her chair at the sound of a furious voice coming from behind her.

"What do you think you are doing!" Snape hissed at her.

She turned around to face him, and this time she really did fall out of her stool. She landed butt-first on the floor (for the second time that night), and growled at the pain emitting from her backside.

"Argh!" she moaned, as she looked up to see Snape's angry eyes glaring down at her.

"Are you mad, Miss Granger?" Snape said angrily. "It is past midnight! You will wake the Slytherin students!"

"Ooooooo!" Hermione said, attempting to regain her footing and failing miserably, landing her smack on the floor once more. "W-wouldn't – _hiccup!_ – wanna wake the Szslytherinss!"

She giggled madly for a moment until she met Snape's eyes once more, then stopped immediately when she saw his angry glare. She could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"Get up, you foolish girl!" He said, pulling her up by her bicep.

"S-sorry s-sir." She said, keeping her gaze on the ground.

"Miss Granger, are you drunk?" He asked in a shocked voice.

"N-no, s- _hiccup!_ – sir." She managed to reply.

He narrowed his eyes at her and put a finger under her chin, forcing her gaze upon him.

"You most certainly are." He said. "Come, before you wake the entire castle."

She stepped toward the door to her living room but was briskly redirected by Snape's pull. He was taking them to his own quarters.

"W-Where are we g-going, sssir?" She slurred.

"We are going to get you a sobering draught. Then, you are going to sleep this off until you are once again capable of common speech." He growled at her.

She stuck out her tongue at him and he scowled.

"I saw-"

"You saw that. I n-know. You _always_ see that." She cut him off as she rolled her eyes at him.

He helped her into an arm chair in his sitting room and left her as he walked back into the potions lab. He emerged moments later with a pale yellow vial in his hand.

"Drink." He instructed.

She arched a brow at him and squeaked out, "Y-you're – _hiccup!_ – cute."

"Excuse me?"

She grinned sheepishly at him. "Did I stutter?"

"Actually," He said, handing her the yellow vial, "you did."

"Oh." She took the bottle and drank it down, and immediately felt herself becoming drowsy.

"That is a sobering draught, Miss Granger, not a hangover solution. You will feel the full effects of your activities of this evening when you awaken. I daresay by the looks of your condition, it will not be a pleasant morning."

She closed her eyes as the potion took affect, and felt herself drifting into unconsciousness. Within seconds, everything turned black, and she knew no more.

………………………….

"Aaack!" She squealed as she sat up from her outstretched position.

Bad idea. Her head throbbed at the motion, protesting the movement with sharp shots of pain down her neck and into her shoulders.

She looked around at her surroundings, trying to remember what had happened the night before. She remembered Tonks, and the – _bile rose in her throat as she thought of this_ – Fire Whiskey, then she remembered someone was playing exploding snap… _She_ was playing exploding snap? No… Hermione Granger does not play exploding snap. Then someone yelled at her…

'_Oh crap!'_ She thought as she looked around her. She was in his living room… on an extremely large couch that had not been there the day before.

'_Where did this come from?' _A voice in her head questioned, as she surveyed the spacious sofa underneath her.

She noticed the plush throw blanket that was draped over her body. It felt soft and light against her skin. She pulled the dark green blanket to the side and saw that it had a large Slytherin shield in the middle of it. _'Typical.'_

She looked to her right and found herself a little put off by the fact that he had changed _everything_ back form Gryffindor scarlet to Slytherin green. She supposed green was better than his usual color preference. If she had never seen his quarters for herself, she would have been inclined to guess that his rooms were smothered in black.

"I see that you are finally conscious." Came Snape's smooth voice from behind her, pulling her away from her scrutiny of the room.

"Yes… er… I'm sorry, sir… for last night. I've never had Fire Whiskey before. Tonks thought that… as a celebration…" She said clumsily.

"Ah." Snape said as he took a sip from his coffee cup. "I should have realized that this was Nymphadora's doing."

"No, not really. I mean, yes, she brought the Fire Whiskey, but I could have said no."

"If your appearance is in any way indicative of the way you feel, I am willing to wager that you wish you had." He said, taking another long sip from his coffee mug.

"Do you have a hangover solution, sir?" She asked, rubbing the back of her head to steady the incessant throbbing that had begun to emit from the base of her skull.

"Yes."

She stared at him for several long seconds. He made no attempt to retrieve the draught.

She frowned. "You're not going to give it to me, are you?"

"No."

"Even if I said please?"

"Even if you imperio'd a hippogriff to teach Divination."

Her frown increased. She would gladly imperio a hippogriff to do just that if he would ease this blasted headache. She supposed it was supposed to be some sort of learning experience. _'Once a professor, always a professor.'_

"Come." He stated indifferently, exiting the room and entering the potions laboratory.

Grudgingly, she rose from her position on the comfortably oversized sofa and followed him into the adjoining room. Snape was in the corner, extracting ingredients from his storage cupboard. He brought several jars and a steel cauldron to one of the lab tables and sat on a stool opposite her. He arranged the jars in front of him and lit a fire underneath the cauldron, muttering a charm to diminish the flames.

"I'm really in no mood for brewing at the moment, sir." She told him, rubbing the back of her skull with her open palm.

"You are going to brew a hangover solution." He told her.

"I- what?" She gaped. "Me? But- but that's a very complicated brew, sir. It's not in any of the student texts… I wouldn't know where to begin."

He ignored her for a moment, removing the lids from each of the jars and placing them neatly in front of their corresponding containers.

"That is why I am going to teach you. Sit." He commanded.

She obliged, taking a seat on the stool beside him.

"I am not going to spoon-feed you, Hermione. You must learn to brew these potions yourself. Have you no interest in learning them?" He questioned, raising his eyes to look at her.

"No- I- yes, I want to learn. I just didn't think that you would be willing to teach me." She said, still surprised by the fact that he was offering to school her on such a complicated potion. The instruction of the brew would require patience on his part- something she didn't think he would be inclined to give freely.

"I have no qualms about teaching a student who is willing to learn. You are not one of my common underage dunderheads, Hermione. If you wish to learn to brew this concoction, I will gladly instruct you."

She smiled at him. She did want to learn. She had always loved potions. The fact that he had been degrading to the point of cruelty during her years as a student hadn't deterred her then. She certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity to further her knowledge of the subject now, especially with a slightly more amiable Snape to learn from.

"You require a hangover solution. If you desire it, you shall have to make it yourself. Agreed?" He said, watching her eyes carefully as he awaited her answer.

"Agreed." She said, smiling brightly despite her aching head.

Three hours later saw a finished hangover solution, and a much more comfortable Hermione. She had brewed the entire potion herself, under the direct instructions of her former potions professor. She was grateful for the pain-relieving brew, but even more so for the freely offered instruction of the potions master.

She was in the middle of cleaning her work station, headache long gone by now, when Snape informed her of their plans for later that evening.

"We will be presenting the wand to the Order this evening. We are to meet the others in the Headmistress' office tonight at six o'clock, immediately following dinner. I suggest you attempt a nap beforehand." He told her plainly.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea, considering." She smiled at him.

He nodded and turned on his heel to leave the room. Just before he reached his doorway, she called out to him.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For last night, and for this morning. I enjoy the art of potion making, probably even more so than you suspected during my time as a student here. I would welcome any instruction that you are willing to give me on the subject." She said honestly.

"We shall see. Right now, your focus is to be on replenishing the potions for the hospital wing. I am assuming, regardless of what Minerva may think, that you feel yourself capable of brewing every one of them?" He inquired with an arched brow.

"Yes, sir." She said, a hint of embarrassment in her cheeks. He seemed to think more of her abilities than she had originally suspected.

"Very well. You shall finish the stock list for the hospital wing, and then we shall move on to more… interesting… brews."

"Thank you, sir." She said, attempting to hide the smile that was playing at the corners of her mouth.

He nodded, then turned around once again and entered his private chambers, shutting the door behind him.

……………………………………..

The day passed quickly, as Hermione spent most of it napping in her bed chambers. When she finally awoke it was to a loud banging on her bedroom door. Frowning, she got out of bed and answered the incessant knocking.

"Hi Harry." Hermione greeted the unruly-haired gentleman that had been rapping at her door.

Normally, she would have been overjoyed to see her close friend. Today, however, she was feeling more than just under the weather.

"You alright?" He asked her in a concerned voice.

"Fine, Harry. Just a little tired. What time is it?" She asked as she rubbed the seeds of sleep out of her eyes.

"Five o'clock. I thought you might want to get something to eat before we have to meet everyone."

"I'm not really hungry, Harry. Sorry." She answered.

Just the thought of food was making her queasy. At least she no longer had a headache. Apparently her hangover solution had been good for something.

"Alright. Exploding snap, then?" He asked with a laugh, knowing full well that Hermione Granger did not play exploding snap.

He had no idea how funny that suggestion actually was.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled lightly to herself. "Actually, I should be getting ready. I haven't showered yet today."

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently and took a seat on the edge of her bed. "Mind if I hang out here, then? Minerva's been after me all afternoon about the stupid wand. I really can't take any more encouragements today…"

"Harry!" She huffed at him indignantly. "This wand is imperative to the success of the Order of the Phoenix! Severus and I have worked very hard to-"

"Excuse me?" He interrupted her.

"What?"

"You just called Snape, 'Severus'" He told her with a disbelieving look on his face.

"Oh… well, yes. We are _adults_ now, Harry." She said, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

"Yeah, we are…" He answered her, "but even _I_ don't call him that."

"That's because _you_ don't like him."

"And you _do_?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, I do. He is a brilliant wizard and his efforts are invaluable to the Order, and I will hear no more of this childishness. I thought you had grown out of that, Harry." She said, staring daggers at him.

"I have!" He replied indignantly. "He's the one-"

"Stop, right now." She interrupted. "I said I don't want to hear it. I have to get ready now."

He gawked at her the entire way as she walked from the bedroom to the bathroom and shut the door, but she didn't care. They were at war, for Merlin's sake! Adolescent rivalries had no place in such serious circumstances. Besides, after all that Snape had done for her, it was the least she could do to defend him, especially when the defenses were warranted.

………………………

Hermione had been expecting Snape to retrieve her from her rooms prior to the meeting, but he had done no such thing. When the clock finally ticked six o'clock, and Harry was sufficiently agitated at her stalling, they left her rooms and proceed to the Headmistress' office to meet the other Order members. Several steps later, and five minutes late for the meeting, they arrived.

She was surprised to see such a small number of people in attendance. Apparently, they had all decided that only the senior members of the Order needed to be present for the occasion. As a matter of fact, she was the only unofficial member in attendance, having never been sworn in to the Order officially herself, due to her incapacitation for such an extended period of time. She looked around the room and took in the minimal number of familiar faces. Those members in attendance were Harry, Lupin, McGongall, Tonks, Viktor, and (sulking in his usual corner of the room) Snape.

"Ah, Harry, Hermione. Welcome." McGongall greeted them warning.

"Yes," Snape drawled from the corner. "How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry gave Snape a sharp glare.

"Well, Hermione, there are a couple of reasons that we wanted you here this evening." McGongall said, smiling warmly at her. "One of them, of course, is to thank you for all of your hard work on the wand. Without you and Severus, the task would not have been possible."

A light round of applause broke out amongst the small group. Hermione smiled. Snape continued to sulk in his corner.

"Severus, if you would?" Minerva said, looking to Snape.

He held up a long, green box that he had been holding under his left arm, and handed it to McGongall.

"Wonderful!" She said excitedly.

She handed the box to Lupin and he took it with a smile, placing it on the chair next to him.

"Now," Minerva said, turning her eyes back on Hermione. "The second reason that we are here, is to offer you a place, Hermione, with the Order of the Phoenix."

Hermione gaped at them. "Membership?" She squeaked quietly.

"Of course, dear!" McGongall said in a surprised voice. "Surely you did not think that we would keep you from joining the Order, now that you are capable of doing so?"

"Well, no… It's just… I wasn't expecting the invitation so soon… I haven't really done anything to prove myself like the others have…"

"Nonsense!" McGongall scolded her. "You have done more for the Order than most. It would be an honor to induct you, right this moment."

Hermione beamed.

McGongall's smile faltered. "That is, if you want to join. There is no pressure-"

"No!" Hermione interrupted loudly. "That is, I want to join. I want to join more than anything."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Snape roll his eyes at her. She ignored him.

"Lovely!" McGongall said happily. "Remus, Severus… If you would be so kind."

Lupin and Snape took their places on either side of McGongall, and Hermione looked at them curiously.

"In order to be inducted in to the Order of the Phoenix," McGongall said seriously, "you must be initiated by three of the Order's senior members."

Hermione nodded.

"Remus, would you like to go first?" McGongall asked kindly.

"Certainly, Minerva." Lupin said with a smile. "Hermione, your wand, please."

Hermione took her wand from inside her robes and held it out in front of her Lupin touched his wand tip to hers and flashed her a quick smile before beginning the initiation.

"Hermione Granger," Lupin began, "Do you solemnly swear to uphold the values of the Order of the Phoenix, to abide by the rules set forth by its founders, and to carry out the wishes of the whole to the best of your abilities?"

"I do."

Lupin's wand remained in contact with the tip of Hermione's, and McGongall now held up her wand, placing it against Hermione's wand tip, touching the end of Lupin's, and continued the process.

"Hermione Granger, do you solemnly swear to fight for the side of the light, to defend the greater good, and to make any necessary sacrifices in order to maintain the innocence of the wizarding world?"

"I do."

Now it was Snape's turn. He held his wand tip to hers, and his face donned the most serious expression she had ever seen him wear.

"Hermione Granger," He began, his eyes boring deep into hers, "Do you solemnly swear, to uphold the oaths that you take today, to keep the secrets of the Order of the Phoenix, and to defend those secrets to the very end of your days?"

"I do."

Suddenly four ribbons of white light shot out from all four wand tips. The ribbons wrapped themselves around the four wands and formed a tight, glowing not, binding the separate wands as one. Hermione felt a slight tug on her wand as the knot tightened completely, and then the ribbons of light untied themselves and slid off the wands to the floor. The streams of light disintegrated and everyone pulled their wands back, stowing them inside their robes.

"Congratulations, Hermione." Harry said, coming up behind her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You are now an official member of the Order of the Phoenix."


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Diagon Alley

I can't believe how long it has been since I've updated! I really do try to keep these chapters going up at least once a week. I don't think it will be a problem any longer, as I have finally finished what I have come to call my "Pain-In-The-Arse Chapter." Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Please, keep them coming!

**Chapter Fourteen: Diagon Alley**

The next day, Hermione began her brewing for the hospital wing. Some of the potions were easy, and required little concentration. Others, she soon found out, were much more complicated. Over the next two weeks she found herself staying up until all hours of the night in order to finish the various potions.

Snape had been much more of a help than she had initially expected him to be. Apparently, whether out of general kindness or mundane boredom (she wasn't sure which), he had decided to help her brew the tonics. She had been able to figure out the methods and ingredients on her own, as McGongall's statements were correct, and the compilations were all in her '_Most Potent Potions_' text. Snape had been gracious enough to help her with the more complicated potions, as they were both physically and mentally taxing to brew.

They had spent the whole of two full weeks brewing for the infirmary. Each night they would brew until their current potions were completed and bottled, and she would retire to her rooms and collapse on her bed, Snape to his, presumably to do the same.

She had begun to have nightmares involving Theodore and his attack on her. She was hesistant to take a _Dreamless Sleep_ potion, as she didn't want to be drowsy while she worked on her brews for the infirmary, but she had definitely given the matter much consideration. Many nights she awoke in her bedroom, drenched in sweat, unable to shake the feeling of Theodore's hands on her waist. Eventually, she simply accepted the dreams, and did her best to forget them each following morning.

After a fortnight of exhausting labor, the hospital wing was restocked, and she would not have to brew again for at least another week.

Early in the morning on the day after the potions had been completed and sent to Madam Pomfrey, she received an owl from Professor McGongall.

_Hermione,_

The stores of potions ingredients for the stockroom have been nearly depleted. I am requesting that you and Professor Snape journey to Diagon Alley this evening in order to procure the needed ingredients to replenish the provisions. I am hoping that this will give you both a chance to stretch your legs, as I imagine your confinement to the castle can not have been pleasant thus far. You should expect to leave Hogwarts at approximately nine o'clock this evening, as there will be less people about to allow suspicions to arouse. I have sent Professor Snape an owl informing him of the same.

Sincerely,

Professor McGongall  
Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hermione pocketed the letter and returned to the book she had been reading, '_Cauldrons of the Deep_,' an engrossing novel about a witch who becomes lost in a land of dark wizards, only to find herself rescued by a powerful sorcerer.

At approximately five o'clock, Hermione took her dinner in her quarters (as she had become accustomed to doing), and set about preparing herself for her trip to Diagon Alley. She packed several galleons away in the pockets of her robes, just in case anything in particular caught her fancy.

At nine o'clock on the dot, Snape joined her in the potions laboratory, and the two of them went about magically changing their appearances to those that they had become accustomed to donning. They then made the short journey to the outer area of the gates of Hogwarts, and immediately apparated to Diagon Alley.

They arrived in Diagon Alley shortly after nine o'clock in the evening. After a quick stop at Flourish and Blotts, where Hermione bought several texts on arithmancy and curse-breaking and arranged for them to be shipped to the school, they proceeded on to the apothecary at the end of the street.

They entered the quaint building and made straight for the front desk, where the clerk was more than eager to greet them. A short man, the saleswizard was as plump as he was pale. He had a round, rosy-cheeked face and wore half-moon spectacles that were eerily similar to the ones that Dumbledore had worn every day of his life. He smiled at the approaching pair and gave a warm greeting as they entered the shop and made their way towards him.

"Good evenin', sir, madam. What can I do fer yer?" The stout wizard asked them eagerly.

Snape took a small scroll of parchment out of an inner pocket of his robes and handed it to the other wizard. The man read it carefully for a moment, then looked up from the text and gave Snape an odd look.

"We wish to purchase those items on the list. We are with a small potions production company and are running short on ingredients." Snape lied.

"Well, sir…" The man said, obviously a little wary of Snape, "some o' these items are- well, restricted. I'd need ter see a master's license ter-"

Snape cut the man off abruptly by tossing a sack of galleons on to the desk in front of him. The small, emerald tinged velvet satchel landed on the wooden surface with a harsh clink. Hermione noticed that there were far more galleons than would be sufficient for them to procure the lengthy list of ingredients. Snape was clearly trying to buy the man off.

"Sir, er…" The man fumbled, clearly torn between acting legally, and acting on his own greediness.

After staring at the sack of wealth before him for several seconds, the man walked to the front of the store and locked the door. He turned the sign on the inside of the glass door that faced the public from 'open' to 'closed.' Instantly the glass fogged, prohibiting anyone on the outside of the door from viewing the goings-on of the inside of the shop.

"Righ' this way." The chubby man directed at them, waving a hand in the direction of the back of the shop. The wall before them seemed to be solid wood, but, as they watched the chubby man saunter on, he stepped right through it into an unseen room.

"Illusion charm." Snape said plainly to Hermione, before walking right through the misleadingly solid wall himself.

Hermione followed at his heels, and was instantly disconcerted at what she saw. There were shelves upon shelves upon shelves lining the entire length of the hidden back room of the shop. Each shelf was stock full of glass jars with odd-looking items floating in them as if doing so of their own accord.

The uppermost shelf was clearly reserved for hazardous items, as it was barricaded with a thin magical version of chicken wire to keep the items safely out of anyone's reach. She gazed interestedly at the curious shelf, moving her eyes slowly along its length from one end of the room to the other. She started slightly as she reached the corner of the room where the shelf split off, watching as a seemingly inanimate jar tried desperately to free itself from its magical enclosure. The oversized vial was banging itself against the glowing barrier, attempting, without success, to break through its confines.

Hermione gave Snape a wary look, which he blatantly ignored, and moved her eyes back to the plump wizard before them.

"'Ere you go." The shopkeeper said, handing a large, blue velvet satchel to Snape.

Snape took the bag and nodded a brief 'thank you' before exiting back through the illusioned wall and out of the shop altogether. Snape pulled his hood up over his head and Hermione felt inclined to mimic his actions. They walked to the end of the main street of Hogsmeade farthest from the castle. When they passed the very last shop in town, '_Kingsford's Magical Fruit Shoppe_', Snape stopped and motioned toward a dark alleyway between the shop and an unusually tall brick wall to its right. Hermione hesitated, not really liking the look of the dark, unfamiliar alley way.

"Where are we going?" She asked in an unusually small voice.

"Knockturn Alley."

"_Why? _" She asked incredulously.

"Must you always be so incredibly inquisitive? Your cheek is bordering on insolence."

"Must you always be so incredibly repetitive?" She countered him. "You are bordering on _boring_."

Snape just arched a brow and scowled weakly at her for a moment, before turning towards the alleyway.

"You do not have to join me. If you are frightened, I could escort you back to the castle before I proceed… if you wish." He said in a challenging voice.

"I think not." She answered, walking defiantly ahead of him and entering the dark alley.

"Lumos." She said out loud, holding her wand, and the subsequent light emitting from its tip, straight out in front of her.

They walked side-by-side down the dark alley, Hermione trying her best to decipher their surroundings in the barely-pierced darkness. There was a scent on the air that she could not quite place- she thought it smelled roughly like a combination of bubotuber puss and ammonia. Frankly, the smell was nauseating.

They reached the end of the alleyway where the stone wall came to a halt, and Snape held his arm out in front of him, effectively blocking Hermione's path. He peered out of their hideaway ever so slightly, just enough to catch a quick glance of the street that awaited their arrival. Apparently satisfied that the coast was clear of any impending danger, he stepped out into the open air and signaled for Hermione to join him.

"Take my arm." He said, holding his curved elbow out in her direction.

She paused, stuffing her wand into the intended pocket in her robes. The hesitation earned her an impatient sigh from Snape.

"For safety, girl." He said in an exasperated voice.

She frowned. "I wasn't-"

"Today, please." He said with an air of irritation.

She made to argue with him but thought better of it. Now was not the time. She linked her arm with his and accompanied him down the road and into a dark, intimidating building.

The structure was small, perhaps the size of a small shack, and smelled vaguely of rubbing alcohol. There was but a single candle lighting the entire space. It hung loosely in thin air in the middle of the shop, and was the same deep, slick black color as Snape's hair. The light was weak, but it was enough for the two of them to see while in the shop.

"What d'you want?" Came a hoarse, scratchy voice from behind them.

Snape turned to face the man that the voice came from, his eyes alight with something that Hermione could not quite place. It wasn't fear- Severus Snape did not show any outward signs of that emotion. She sometimes wondered if he showed any inward signs, to be honest. He stared at the elderly wizard for several seconds before responding. Both of them seemed to be scrutinizing each other quite openly.

"I am here to procure a package for Severus Snape." Snape told the man. Hermione's faced scrunched up in confusion for a moment before she remembered that both of them had altered their appearances before venturing out of the castle--- a fact that had been thrown from both of their minds by their overly large, upright hoods.

"I don't have nothin' for a Mr. Snape." The man stated shortly, looking Snape up and down slowly, and very carefully.

"I believe you are mistaken." Snape told the wizard calmly. "Mr. Snape has asked me, personally, to attain the item for him. He tells me that it is of the utmost importance to him."

The old man took a step forward out of the shadows, and Hermione could see him properly for the first time. He had one blue eye, and one that was covered with a dingy looking black eye patch. His hair was white as snow, and circled his head like a horse shoe around the shiny, bald valley that spanned the entire top of his skull. His clothes were ragged and filthy. His robes, seemingly once black, were now a combination of dulled grayish fabric and dark, black stains. His posture was permanently hunched over, revealing a large hump on the man's back. Hermione was eerily reminded of the character 'Igor' from the movie '_Frankenstein. _'

The old man stopped only a foot's length in front of Snape. He eyed the younger wizard menacingly, seemingly deciding whether or not to trust him. Eventually, without saying a word, he left the two of them and disappeared into the rear of the shop.

The old wizard returned a few minutes later with a large, brown parcel, roughly the size of a basketball, held together tightly with pale tan string. Snape handed the wizard several galleons and motioned toward the door with his neck. Hermione followed him out, interlinked her arm with his, and escorted him down the dark, foreign street.

"I don't suppose you're willing to share with me what that parcel is that you are holding?" She asked him.

"No, I am not. A stout presumption, on your part." He told her with a wry smirk.

They walked down the street and were nearly at the opening to the alley that would lead them back to Hogsmeade, when it happened.

Two tall, dark figures emerged from the shadows. Each of the men had their wands already trained on her and Snape. She instinctively withdrew her arm from Snape's grasp and reached for her wand. The taller of the two wizards in front of her reacted immediately.

"Expelliarmus!" He shouted, effectively knocking Hermione's wand from her still down-turned arm, sending it flying several feet too far out of her reach.

She felt her mouth rid itself of any saliva. Her heartbeat quickened and she attempted to swallow, but found the action painfully ineffective. The hairs were standing up on the back of her neck, and she could almost hear the raspy breathing of the two men in front of her.

They were unusually tall and wore large, bulgy robes that almost certainly signified their patronage to the Death Eaters. Though they did not appear to be wearing the usual Death Eater masks, their hoods were pulled all the way up on their heads, so she could not be sure. She waited for an opening in the path in front of her, or for someone to come along and find them in their current predicament. Her hopes were futile- she knew that no one was coming to rescue them.

"Give me the package." The shorter of the two men said.

Snape stood his ground and said nothing. He merely moved his right arm to the side and linked it with Hermione's once more, pulling her slightly closer to him.

She found herself willing Snape to give them what they wanted. Whatever was in that package could probably be replaced. Their lives could not. She shut her eyes tight, willing for everything to be a dream. Maybe if she hoped hard enough, she would wake in her rooms in the Dungeons, and realize that this had all been one, dark, horrible nightmare. She opened her eyes and the two men in front of her took one long, even stride towards them. 

'_Oh, Gods! Just give them the package! It's just a bloody package! Give it to them so we can get-the-hell-out-of-here_!'

She turned her gaze slowly to Snape, hoping that he would see the pleading in her eyes and hand over the stupid package. When her eyes met his, she felt that same, minute pressure at the back of her retinas, and, this time, let him in to her mind willingly.

She heard his voice in her head as clear as if he had been speaking to her out loud. _'They are Death Eaters, Hermione. Stay very still. Do not speak. Do not try to fight them.' _

Before she could reply he ripped his gaze away from hers and faced the two men in front of them once more. She was angry with him for not simply handing over the bloody package. Whatever it was, he was selfishly keeping it to himself- possibly at the risk of her life! She took a deep breath and brought her own gaze to the men in front of them, hoping that some small miracle would happen to distract them, and that the men would leave her and Snape untouched.

The taller man looked at Snape and spoke with a low, threatening voice. "Did you not hear me, buddy? I said, give – me – the – package."

Hermione bit her cheek in an effort to stop herself from whimpering. Snape had told her that these two men were Death Eaters. He could not reveal who he was, because she was with him. He could not keep his identity a secret, because they would undoubtedly kill him for the package that they so eagerly sought.

"You refuse?" The taller Death Eater asked dangerously. "Fine. We'll see how well you are able to refuse after we are done with your little girlfriend here…"

Hermione couldn't mask the squeak that escaped her throat. She jumped visibly, causing the shorter of the two Death Eaters to grin sinfully at her. Snape released his arm from Hermione's and reached slowly into his robes for his wand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, mate." The taller Death Eater snarled, snapping his wand from Hermione to Snape and training it on him steadily.

Snape paused, but did not remove his hand from the inside of his robes. His other hand remained at his side, the package held firmly against his waist with his arm.

"Last chance." The taller Death Eater said greedily.

Snape stood his ground, and Hermione flinched as both wands now trained on her. She did notice, however, that the man diagonal from her had his gaze trained on Snape, though his wand was pointed at her chest.

Suddenly, she saw both wand tips ignite in a fury of light. One of them was red, one of them was blue. Her mind refused to process which wand was glowing which color. 

During a burst of colors she heard both mean simultaneously bellow two different spells.

"Indigo!"

"Crucio!"

She barely had time to process what was happening. Snape dropped the package to the ground and flung himself in front of Hermione, his body accepting the spells that had been meant for her. He fell, writhing to the ground, but the effects of the spells were different than the usual characteristics of the cruciatus curse.

His arms were still flailing, but they refused to bend. His limbs were rigid and pronounced, as if the joints had locked themselves into place. The two Death Eaters in front of her looked down on him triumphantly before stepping toward the area where Snape had tossed the package before he fell; the taller of the two with his wand still trained on Snape's seizing body.

Instinctively, Hermione dove to the other side of the alley and took up her wand. She stood to her full height and took in the enormity of the scene around her. In two, lightening fast decisions, she took the only actions that would see the two of them out of there alive.

First, she turned her wand on the package that the two Death Eaters were vying for, and screamed "Accio Package!"  
Instantly, the package was in her grasp, being cradled tightly like a new born baby in her left arm. Both Death Eater's wands flung upwards towards her- but, as they were doing so, she flung herself on top of Snape's writhing body and shut her eyes tight, and apparated the two of them in front of the front gates of Hogwarts.

They landed in a messy heap of robes and extremities. Snape's body had stopped seizing, but his arms and legs were still just as stiff and tight as they had been in Knockturn Alley.

She bent down low and threw Snape's rigid arm over her shoulder, heaving his extremely heavy body up off of the ground. She felt a sharp pain in her lower back as she rose, but ignored it, and took one slow-moving stride after another toward the heavy iron gates. She managed to pry the gates open with Snape still hanging rigidly over her shoulder, but knew that she would be unable to support his dead weight the entire journey up to the castle. She shut the gates behind them and lowered his unbending body gently to the ground. She pulled his hood forward as far as she could, successfully covering his face with the heavy woolen fabric. She stepped back, wand in hand, and levitated his stiff form all the way up to the heavy oak doors that barred the entrance to the castle. 

She worried briefly what Filch would say should he see the new 'potions apprentice' levitating the unconscious form of the school's resident 'ministry official' into the building. Sighing, she tapped her wand to the top of her head, repeating the gesture on Snape. Gradually their figures appeared to vanish as the dissolusionment charm worked its way over their bodies.

She opened the large oak doors and levitated the now undetectable form of Severus Snape through the opening and into the building. Luckily for both of them, the hour was late, and they didn't pass a single student on their urgent journey to the dungeons.

She released the wards on the laboratory entrance and levitated Snape into the room, crossing the area with an anxious urgency. She reached the door to her chambers and paused, thinking that it might be better to bring Snape to his own bedroom. Deciding that she was more comfortable taking care him in the familiarity of her rooms, she opened the door and levitated him inside, lowering him gently on to the deep red couch.

She wasn't sure what the curses had done to him, and didn't have time to find out. She performed a few remedial health detection spells that she had learned from Professor Flitwick in her third year, and found that Snape was stable, but unconscious. She used a charm to remove his robes and found that he was, not surprisingly, still very much ensconced in black. His black high-collared dress shirt was buttoned all the way up the collar, stopping only when it hit the crevice between his neck and his chin. The buttons seemed to be a theme of the midnight-colored blouse, as there were about twenty of them stretching from his neck down his torso, and another five on each of the sleeve cuffs.

His slacks were the same shadowy black as the shirt, and hung loosely and comfortably around his calves and thighs. She watched him for some time before she thought she noticed him shiver slightly. Unaware of whether the tremor was an after effect of the cruciatus curse or simply a sign that he was cold, she lit a fire in the fireplace and conjured a warm wool blanket that she placed over his lying body. 

She watched him carefully for a long time, noticing his chest rising and falling beneath the blanket with steady, even breaths of air. As the clock on the mantle struck one o'clock, she felt her eyelids becoming heavy, and took a seat in the comfortable armchair that abutted the couch. It was only a matter of minutes before she found herself in a muddy, restless sleep.

She awoke several hours later to the sounds of Snape stirring beside her. She jumped from her chair and rushed over to him, only to find that he was still fast asleep. The effects of the indigo curse must have worn off, because his arms and legs were no longer the rigid, unmoving trunks that they had been before she had fallen asleep. She watched him warily as his face scrunched up in a look of confusion. He must have been dreaming. She knelt beside the couch and took his hand in her own, stroking gentle circles on the top between his wrist and his knuckles.

"Hermione…" She heard him whisper in an almost inaudible breath.

The noise made her jump, and she released his hand from her own, dropping it on to the cushion beside him. She studied him more carefully for several minutes, and, after waving her hand in front of his face several times in a very childish gesture, she came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, still asleep.

A toothy grin spread across her face as she watched him, thinking about how he had unconsciously breathed her name in his sleep. '_I wonder what he's dreaming about... _'

She took a seat on the couch at a spot just above his waist and watched him as he slept. Now that she was fairly certain that he would be alright, she allowed her mind to reflect upon the events of earlier that evening. He had insisted upon going to Knockturn Alley for that strange package… The package that now sat safely atop her living room desk. She wondered at what it contained, but didn't dare touch it. The only items that ever came out of Knockturn Alley always contained some form of very dark magic.

She knew, and trusted completely, that Snape was on the side of the light. She couldn't bring herself to believe that he was purchasing such an item for personal use. She shook her head and laughed lightly. She couldn't even be sure that the contents of the package were of dark magic. Though, she had never heard otherwise of an item that came from Knockturn Alley…

She started a little as his head tilted to the side, draping his long, raven locks of hair over his eyes. She pushed them out of his face and tucked the stray hairs behind his ear. He looked so peaceful, sleeping there, uninterrupted, undisturbed by the trials of the world around him. His normal scowl had left him, and she considered what a handsome man he actually was when he wasn't glowering at someone.

"Hermione…"

He had breathed her name again, but he was still asleep. She felt her breath hitch in her throat. Her mind reverted back to wondering what he was dreaming about. She leaned in closer to make sure that he had not woken up. She could see his eyes moving to and fro underneath their heavy lids, satisfying her presumption that he was in the R.E.M. stages of sleep.

She thought about his actions earlier in the evening. He had consciously jumped in front of two very dangerous, very painful curses that had been meant for her. He could have taken the opportunity of the distraction to apparate out of the street. He could have simply taken his precious package and run--- but he didn't. He had jumped right in front of her, knowing full well the implications of his decision. Whatever had happened to him when both of those dark curses had hit him at once, she knew it had not been pleasant. His immediate convulsing and prolonged joint congealing had made it more than obvious that he had suffered greatly at the effects of the curses.

She thought about the strong contrast between his normal face, and the one that she was looking at now. _'He's such a complicated man…' _She found herself, now more than ever, wanting to learn everything that she could about the man lying on the couch before her. A person that could go from anger to happiness, doubt to hope, dark to light, all in the span of a moment, was certainly someone that she wished to know on a more intimate level. Someone capable of that range of emotions would have to hold such mystery… such passion.

She couldn't explain what was happening to her, but she felt herself drawn to him. She leaned in and breathed in the soft fragrance of his hair- patchouli and sandalwood – the scents of wisdom and tranquility.

"Mmmm…" 

She couldn't help but inhale the scent. The musky, woodsy aroma was too powerful for her to resist. She thought about their meanings, and wondered if he chose to don those two particular scents on purpose. It struck her that a man as torn as Snape was between what is right, and what is easy, would be drawn to wearing a scent that is supposed to inspire wisdom and serenity. She pulled away from his hairline and looked longingly at his full, sensual lips. There were drawn lines on either side of them--- not surprising, really, given the amount of time the man spends frowning.

She stalled herself just short of his mouth. She wanted so badly to touch his face… to smooth the lines on his forehead that had formed out of turmoil over the past two decades. She brought her hand to his face and cupped his slumbering cheek. She was shaking.

She leaned in closer and felt his warm, steady breaths course over her chin. She felt herself shiver. She took her hand, still cupping his warm cheek, and tilted his head upward to face her. Leaning forward, she placed a warm, tender kiss on his mouth. She shut her eyes and took in the feel of her lips brushing against his. They were warm… soft… supple.

She let her lips linger upon his for a moment before pulling away, eyes still shut from the intensity of the moment. With her face inches from his, she opened her eyes, and abruptly fell backward off the couch as she saw him staring at her intently.

She regained her balance before her backside hit the floor and managed to claw her way back into the same seated position on the sofa next to him. She nervously tucked the stray hairs around her face behind her ears, fingering the curls a few seconds longer than she rightfully needed to.

"Sir- you- you're awake." She managed to stutter, as she brought her eyes back to his.

His stare was still fixed on her face, the look in his eyes so intense that she thought she would shatter under his gaze. She felt her heart beating wildly and thought she might pass out from the anxiety.

"What were you doing?" He asked quietly, finally breaking the silence, his eyes still fixed on hers.

"I-," she paused, not knowing how to explain her actions to him, "I was- just… I'm sorry."

She moved her gaze to her hands that were situated neatly in her lap. She couldn't face him. She had kissed him. It wasn't really the kiss that she regretted- that, she could live with. It was the fact that she had done so without permission, and that he seemed to be quite unhappy about it.

She felt his eyes on her but refused to face him. She didn't want to know what he thought about the events that had just transpired. She wanted to be able to think – in her own mind – that he had enjoyed it; That he would have welcomed the kiss, had he been awake when she initiated it.

"How did I get here?" He asked, keeping his current position on the sofa.

"I brought you here, sir. I apparated us out, and levitated you to the dungeons."

"Were you seen?" He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"No. I dissolusioned both of us."

"Are you alright?" He asked, this time in a very gentle, very concerned voice.

At that last question, she lifted her head and met his gaze. He did not look angry. He did not look regretful. He looked- relieved?

"Yes, sir. I'm fine. It was _you_ that I was concerned about." She said, still slightly surprised that he wasn't yelling at her.

"You need not concern yourself with me." He said, roaming his eyes up and down the blanket that was covering him. "I can take care of myself."

"Yes, sir, I know you can. But they used… something… on you, and your arms and legs locked up like you were under a binding spell. It only just wore off a short while ago."

He moved his eyes back to hers. There was something about the look that he was giving her… She couldn't quite place it. It wasn't anger… It certainly wasn't sadness…

"Was it the indigo curse?" He asked in a serious tone.

"Yes, sir. But- that wasn't the only curse. They both yelled different curses at the same time. The other one was definitely the cruciatus."

"That explains the jitters…" He said, in wistful tone.

She sat and stared at him as he gazed at the fabric of the couch, obviously deep in thought. Several minutes passed where neither of them spoke or looked at one another.

"Why were you kissing me?" He said suddenly, piercing her eyes with his gaze.

"I wanted to." She blurted out without thinking.

He seemed to consider her answer for a moment before replying. "Why?"

She didn't know what to say. _'Because you smell like patchouli and sandalwood, and your scent was incredibly arousing, and I wanted desperately to feel your lips crushed against my own. And, if you were still asleep right now, I would probably do it again…' She smirked. 'I'd like to see what his reaction would be to that answer.' _

"I- I don't know." She finally managed to say in a meek voice.

He considered her for a moment with a look that she could not quite place. She took to shifting her gaze between his eyes and her hands, not lingering on either one for any length of time. Her only comforting thought was that at least he hadn't hexed her yet.

"Thank you, Hermione." He said in a low, comforting voice.

"For what, sir?"

"For saving my life." He answered in a surprised tone.

"Oh, I really don't think that-"

He raised a hand to stop her. "No. You most certainly did just that. Had you not apparated me out of that location, I am most certain that I would be dead right now. Thank you."

She smiled at him and nodded. He returned the smile with one of his own. She couldn't help but think how becoming the look was on him.

He sat up on the sofa and swayed slightly before his equilibrium returned. He gently pulled the blanket off of himself and swung his feet to the floor.

"I only wish that I had been able to hold on to the parcel during my fall." He said solemnly, placing a hand on the back of his skull and rubbing his neck absently.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, causing his chin to snap up and his eyes to look into hers. "I almost forgot!"

She jumped up from the couch and hurried over to her desk, retrieving the package, and walked it briskly back to him.

"I grabbed it just before we apparated." She said happily.

A huge grin spread across her face and she handed the package to Snape, watching his look of awe as he stared at it for several seconds before looking up at her.

"You- You retrieved it?" He said, dumbfounded.

"It seemed important to you." She smiled and nodded at him, and he returned his eyes to the parcel in his lap, fingering the bow of the string absently. He sat there for several seconds, wrapping his fingers in the bow. 

"Thank you, Hermione. You have no idea how important this is."

She simply smiled at him and nodded her acceptance of his gratitude.

He made to stand and faltered, falling gently back on to the couch behind him.

"Sir!" She said, lunging forward to grab his arm. "Let me help you."

"I assure you, I am quite capable-"

"No." She said, shaking her head violently. "You have just suffered the effects of two dark curses simultaneously. You can barely stand, let alone walk back to your rooms. Let me help you."

A brief look of irritation flashed across his face, but it was gone almost before she noticed it. He nodded his acquiescence and allowed her to take him by the arm and help him to his feet. She wrapped his left arm around her shoulder and escorted him out of her living room, through the potions laboratory, and into his chambers. They passed through his living room and she sat him on the edge of the side of his bed. He placed the package on the nightstand and smirked up at her, nodding a curt thank you for her assistance.

"Will you be alright?" She asked him.

"Yes. Thank you." He said, smiling up at her. 

She nodded back at him and made to leave the room, but he called out to her.

"Hermione?"

She turned to face him and wordlessly questioned him with an upraised brow and a smile.

"You are a remarkable witch. Not many individuals would have been able to think so clearly in such an archaic situation. You did extremely well."

She turned around before she revealed the ridiculously girly grin that she was sure now spanned the entire width of her face. She closed the door behind her and made her way back to her own chambers, slugging off her robes as she went. She tucked herself into bed thinking about how strange it was that a night that had started out so horrific could turn out so wonderful.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Visitors

I'm sorry it's been so long, guys! I have been so busy these past couple of weeks that I don't even know what day it is anymore... But, I have finally completed my most difficult chapter and, hopefully, the story will just flow from there.

**Warning:** This chapter contains ridiculous bouts of fluff. Use caution if you are not a romantic.

JK… No, but seriously, it does get quite cute toward the end. Wait until you read sixteen. You guys are going to love it.

As always, feedback would be greatly appreciated please. The more feedback I get, honestly, the faster I write. It really does become a source of inspiration.

Enjoy!

****

Chapter Fifteen: Visitors

Headmistress McGongall had been furious when Snape and Hermione recounted for her the events that had transpired the previous evening. She forbade Hermione to leave the castle, ignoring her protests that she was of age and even discounting her suggestion that she should be allowed to leave in the presence of an Order member.

Hermione had argued with the older woman for an extended period of time before she finally gave up and agreed to the Headmistress' terms.

"It is too dangerous, Hermione!" McGongall had told her. "You are and Order member now, and we simply cannot risk your capture by the other side. You took an oath to abide by the rules of the Order of the Phoenix, and that is precisely what you will do."

Hermione had been unable to come up with a decent argument after McGongall's strong words, and had conceded to do as she was told.

Snape seemed to sense her agitation at the prospect of being boarded up in the castle for an undetermined period of time. He made a conscious effort to be present during her brewing sessions, engaging her in minimal yet stimulating conversation about various subjects, their topics ranging from potions to muggle literature.

Hermione had been surprised to hear that Snape had a penchant for non-wizarding texts, but was happy to engage him in discussion about them all the same.

In the evenings, she would often find herself in Snape's chambers, initially asking to borrow a book, but eventually ending up in one of his high-backed chairs in front of the fireplace, reading her newest borrowed tome while Snape did the same in the chair next to her.

Neither of them had spoken of their kiss since the event itself. She had spent the night of the event thinking about it quite a bit, but eventually shrugged it off as a moment of confusion. He had just saved her life, and she had wanted to thank him. He had been asleep when the kiss had taken place, and, to be frank, she wasn't even sure that he remembered it. She had nearly forgotten about it herself… nearly.

Now that her brewing for the hospital wing was adequately up to date, she resumed taking her meals in the great hall with the other faculty and Order members every couple of days. As she told Tonks at dinner one evening, any excuse to spend time away from the confines of the dungeons was a good one.

She had been delighted to hear that Harry and Ginny were to take up residence at the school for a short period of time. She missed her friends dearly, and was looking forward to seeing them more than just once every few weeks at random Order meetings in the presence of all the other members.

They arrived at the school on a Tuesday evening, ten days after the attack in Knockturn Alley. After recounting the events of the assault for them in the comfort of her chambers, she explained to them her current situation.

"So," Hermione said to Harry and Ginny, who were seated on the couch across from her, "McGongall wants me to stay here at all times. I can't even go to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, for Merlin's sake!"

She shifted in her armchair and looked to her friends for support. Harry and Ginny glanced at each other briefly, then looked back at Hermione.

"You can't really blame her, Hermione." Harry said sympathetically. "She's just worried about you. And, she's right. You are too valuable to the Order to risk being captured by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. You know too much now."

Hermione had felt her face redden at first, then she slumped back in her chair in a gesture of defeat. "Ohhh… I know you're right, Harry." She looked to Ginny for a moment, who seemed to have come to the same decision as her boyfriend. "It's just horrible being shut up in here all day long. Even when I do leave the dungeons, I can't stand walking around with my appearance altered. I feel so… phony."

"It has nothing to do with being phony." Ginny retorted. "It's for your own safety. Who cares if everyone else has no idea who you are?"

"Yeah," Harry continued. "We know it's you under all that camouflage."

"Besides," Ginny picked up, a mischievous look in her eyes, "Viktor told me he likes you as a blonde."

Ginny grinned widely and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"All the more reason to stick to the dungeons." Hermione said distastefully. "I can't even take a decent meal in the great hall without him fawning over me. He's becoming quite an irritation."

"He's not so bad, Hermione." Ginny encouraged. "He really has grown up quite a bit. I don't think he ever got over you after the tournament. He talks about you all the time. Right, Harry?"

Ginny looked hopefully to her boyfriend and found that he was looking at Hermione indifferently. When she directed her question at him, he simply shrugged.

"He's kind of a prat." Harry said.

"Harry!" Ginny cried indignantly. "He's an Order member!"

"Yeah," Harry countered, "so is Snape. And he's still every bit the greasy git he was when he was teaching us potions."

Hermione frowned. "Harry, you really shouldn't talk about him that way. He's done a lot for the Order. More than most, as a matter of fact."

"Yeah," Harry said emphatically, "probably just the things that suited him, though. We all know how he is."

"No, you don't." Hermione snapped at him. "But I do. He's saved my life on more than one occasion, Harry, and I would think that you two, of all people, would appreciate him for that."

Harry donned an embarrassed look and glanced at Ginny, who simply shrugged her shoulders at him.

"You're right, Hermione." He said guiltily. "It's just… We've never gotten along in the past… and I don't think it's going to happen any time soon. You understand, don't you?"

Hermione thought about his question for a moment. She had been angry when he had insulted Snape, after all that the man had done for her, but she couldn't fault her friend for his feelings towards the man. It's not as if they are completely unfounded.

"Yes, I supposed I understand, Harry. But you have to remember that we are all older now. He's not your potions professor anymore. He isn't going to take house points from you and make you serve detentions. We are all in this thing together now, and we need his help, even if you don't like it. You don't have to like him, Harry," Harry snorted- Hermione ignored it, "but you need to learn to be decent to him, if only for the sake of the rest of the Order."

Harry just suppressed a sneer and shrugged, keeping his gaze on his hand sitting atop his knee. Ginny gave Hermione an approving look, and placed her hand on top of Harry's.

Just then Harry excused himself, informing Hermione and Ginny that he had promised to meet Remus for tea, and that he was due there in twenty minutes. He gave Ginny a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged Hermione, then exited the dungeons, leaving the two women alone.

"So what have you been doing? You know, to keep your sanity." Ginny grinned at her.

"Well, I'm pretty busy with the potions for the hospital wing, and I've been reading a lot." Hermione answered.

"How unusual." Ginny rolled her eyes at her.

Hermione frowned at her, and Ginny adjusted herself in her seat. "So," Ginny continued, "what have you been reading?"

"Oh," Hermione answered, her interest suddenly sparked with the prospect of discussing books, "lots of things, really. Severus lent me a book last night called '_Into The Dawn_.' It's a muggle fiction set in the time of World War II. It was quite good, actually."

Ginny gawked at her. "_Snape_ reads _muggle_ stories?"

Hermione frowned. "He reads lots of things, Ginny. Actually, he just may be more of a bookworm than I am. I hardly ever catch him at night without a book in his lap."

"You hang around with Snape at night?" Ginny said disbelievingly.

"No, no… We don't '_hang around_.'" She looked at her friend certainly. "I just go over there at night sometimes to borrow a book, or to return one, or to ask about a potion for the hospital wing, or to discuss something I've been reading."

"Oh, is that all?" Ginny said sarcastically.

"Yes, it is." Hermione said offensively.

"How have the potions been coming along?" Ginny asked, now eager to change the subject after seeing that Hermione was bordering on angry.

"Excellent, really." Hermione said plainly. "I know most of the spells by heart now, but every once in a while I have to consult my '_Most Potent Potions_' book. The invigoration draught is particularly tricky to brew, but Severus says that the stirring movements will become less difficult to remember with time."

Ginny stared at her for a moment with a frown on her face. "You like him." She declared.

"Who?" Hermione said, bewildered.

"Snape. You like him." Ginny repeated.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ginny!" Hermione squeaked.

"I'm not being ridiculous." Ginny said forcefully. "You like him. You haven't shut up about him since I got here. It's '_Severus this_,' and, '_Severus that_.' You're bloody smitten with him!"

"Ginny, you're being completely-"

"I'm not being 'completely' anything. Admit it. You fancy him." She demanded.

"No, I most certainly will not. You are being silly."

"Silly, huh?" Ginny said, arching a brow. "Did you eat dinner in the great hall at all last week?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Where did you eat?" Ginny demanded.

"In the potions lab, but I don't see what that has to do with-"

"Did you eat alone?" Ginny interrupted.

"Well, no, Severus ate with me, but that's only because-"

"Ha!" Ginny said triumphantly, throwing her arms up in a stout imitation of a sports fan doing 'the wave.' "I knew it! You like Snape!"

"I do not!" Hermione shouted at her.

"Oh, but I think you do…" Ginny said mischievously. "And I can tell that he likes you too."

"Ginny, you are so-" Hermione paused. "You… think he likes me?"

"_Oh_ yeah." Ginny smirked. "Totally."

"Why would you think that?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the concerned tone out of her voice.

"Because," Ginny smiled, moving forward a little in her seat, "Tonks says he only comes to dinner in the great hall when you do, and he has been a right git to Viktor lately."

Hermione snorted. "He's always a git to everyone."

"No," Ginny said eagerly, "Not like this. Tonks told me that when Viktor first started teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, he and Snape would talk all the time. She guessed it had something to do with their past ties to the Dark Arts, Snape being an ex Death Eater, and Viktor coming from Durmstrang. But, ever since you've arrived, Snape won't even _talk_ to him unless it's to say something demeaing about his intelligence or his teaching abilities."

Hermione flashed a brilliant smile and then tried to hide it before Ginny caught sight of it, failing dismally.

"I can't believe you like Snape!" Ginny exclaimed.

"I don't… well… I don't know… I guess… I mean, I like him, but I don't know how I feel about him in… _that_ way." Hermione mumbled.

Ginny smiled wickedly at her. "Oh. I think you do."

Hermione let out a girlish giggle that she had been suppressing, then grew serious quite quickly.

"Ginny, you can't say anything to anyone, not even Harry. I don't really know what's going on here- if anything is going on at all- but no one can know about it. Promise me, Gin."

Ginny's wicked smile grew even wider and she laughed for a moment before answering. "I promise."

"Seriously, Ginny. _Please_." She pleaded.

"I said I promise!" Ginny squawked indignantly. She let her smile return. "You and Snape… woah…"

……………………………..

Hermione enjoyed the company of her two friends for the next six days. They had been taking a brief rest from their hunt for Voldemort's horcruxes, and were scheduled to depart the following morning to continue their efforts. Hermione enjoyed Ginny's company immensely, and even put up with her intermittent little quips about her '_forbidden romance_' with Snape.

To be honest, Hermione hadn't even spoken with Snape once since Harry and Ginny's arrival. Even when she took dinner in the great hall, Snape chose to take his in his rooms, making communication with him nearly impossible.

Harry and Ginny chose to spend their last night at Hogwarts together in private, as it would be their last night uninterrupted by their work for the Order. Subsequently, she found herself alone that night in her rooms for the first time in nearly a week.

She decided that now was as good a time as any to return Snape's novel, '_Into the Dawn_', and snatched it up and headed for his chambers. She knocked on his door and found that several seconds went by with no answer from within. She was just about to give up, thinking he had gone out for the evening, when the door opened.

"Yes?" He asked her irritably.

"Er…" She paused, thinking she had disturbed him. "I just wanted to return your book, sir. It was quite good."

She handed him the tome and stood there with a patient smile on her face.

"Thank you." He said shortly, and made to close the door.

"Uh, sir?" She said loudly, halting his closure of the door.

He stared at her with an arched brow, waiting for her to speak.

"I wondered if you wanted to discuss it with me." She asked hopefully.

"No, I do not." He said bluntly.

She frowned. "Oh… well, maybe you would like to have a cup of tea, then? It's just… I'm a bit lonely, actually…"

His bland expression did not change. "No Potter or Weasleys to keep you occupied this evening?" He said sarcastically.

"They're… er… busy, tonight." She said hesitantly.

Snape seemed to catch her drift. "Very well." He said shortly.

He opened the door and motioned for her to come in, subsequently shutting it behind her.

"I am not sure that it is proper etiquette to invite oneself in to _someone else's_ room for tea… but, perhaps Minerva does not practice the teaching of proper mannerisms in her house." He said coldly.

She was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. She had a strange feeling that Snape was mad at her about something, but she had no idea what that something could be. Had she done something to upset him?

"Sir, are you alright this evening? You seem a little… upset." She said cautiously.

"Nonsense." He snapped at her. "I am fine. I thought you were making us tea?"

"Oh, er… yeah…" She mumbled, walking over to the table between his two armchairs in front of the fireplace and conjuring them a tea service.

She filled the two small tea cups with the freshly conjured beverage and handed one of them to Snape, who downed his instantly. She hesitated, then took a seat in the armchair to the right. Snape did not mirror the gesture with the other chair.

"So… What would you like to talk about?" She asked him brightly.

"I believe I made it quite clear that I do not wish to talk about anything." He said sharply. "You are the one that insisted upon having tea."

"Well, you don't have to be such a prat about it!" She nearly yelled at him. "If you didn't want me here, you should have told me so!"

He glared at her. "I thought the insinuation was quite obvious."

She rose from her armchair, setting her tea cup on its saucer on the table between the two chairs. "Fine. I'll just go then."

Snape shrugged his shoulders at her and turned away. She rose from her chair and made toward the door. As she reached for the handle, she heard Snape call out to her in a mocking tone.

"Be sure to tell your friends that I said hello. I am sure that you will be seeing them later on… _again_." He spat.

She exited his rooms and closed the door behind her. Just then, the realization of what had taken place finally hit her. He was angry that she hadn't been to see him all week. He must have thought that she had been ignoring him. She hadn't, of course. She had just been so caught up in the company of her old friends that she did not think to make time for Snape. They had become accustomed to each others company, especially in the evenings, as there was no one else to talk to. She suddenly felt extremely guilty.

She crossed the potions laboratory and entered her living room, passing over the large couch and opting to lay on her bed in her bedroom instead. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about her and Snape's similar predicaments.

They were both prisoners of the mighty castle. They had both been victim's of Voldemort's wrath, and had both spent many a night in the dungeons alone and secluded… that is, up until the past week.

They had taken to spending their evenings together, either discussing something academic or simply sitting in opposite chairs and reading two separate books simultaneously. She found that the simple comfort of him being next to her drained the loneliness from her heart. She felt safe and warm when she had someone else to sit with and talk to. Now, as she lay in her bed and think about her actions over the past week, she felt painfully alone.

Snape was not a man to be consoled, and certainly not one to admit that he needed consoling. She had to find some way to make the past week up to him and show him that she did not mean to hurt his feelings. She hadn't meant to ignore him for her other friends, and she wanted him to realize that truth. In a moment of brilliance, she knew what she had to do.

She walked over to her wardrobe and dug out the old muggle radio that she had brought with her from Snape's house. She picked up the bag with the batteries in it and brought both items over to her bed, unwrapping the battery package as she went.

She packed the batteries away in the back of the radio and flipped up the '_on_' switch.

Nothing.

She frowned and took to smacking the radio from various angles with her open palm, succeeding only in making the antenna fall off. She left the radio on the bed and walked to her bookshelf in the adjoining room. She picked up a thick blue book entitled '_Muggle to Magic: A guide to enhancing common household items_.'

She bit her lip and thumbed through the book, hoping there was a musical spell for radios. She got lucky. She studied the incantation for nearly twenty minutes before attempting it on Snape's radio.

According to the book, non-magical items could sometimes be spelled into working in an overly magical setting. Hogwarts, as she knew from reading '_Hogwarts, a History_', was the epitome of an overly magical setting. The enhanced magical wards and concealments on the school made it nearly impossible for common muggle electronics to work within its walls. However, as the book said, sometimes these objects could be spelled into use.

It would take a somewhat complex, and very new (at least to her) spell, in order to make the muggle radio work on Hogwarts grounds. Fingers crossed, she extracted her wand from her right front pocket and pointed it at the object, boldly stating the charm supplied within the book.

On the very first try, the radio flared to life, and Hermione had to flip the '_off_' button quickly in fear that Snape would hear the piercing noise.

She stood very still for several minutes, then, satisfied that Snape had heard nothing, turned the volume knob down and flipped the power switch to '_on_.' The music emitted from the radio was that which she had never heard before. It sounded old, probably big band era, and was actually quite catchy. She found herself tapping her foot to the rhythm of the sound, and eventually took to dancing around her room in loud, dramatic jumps. She was having quite the time, and would probably have continued to do so, if she was not, quite rudely, interrupted.

"What on earth are you doing?" She heard Snape's voice say from the doorway.

She frowned. "What are you doing here?" She asked, walking to the radio and turning the volume down so far that it might as well have been off completely.

He frowned back. "I heard what I was sure to be a hippogriff being thrown against the wall. I knocked, but you did not answer. Your doors were unlocked, so I entered."

"_Now_ who's the rude one?" She mocked, then immediately regretted it.

"Whatever you say, Hermione." He sighed, turned to leave, then stopped abruptly. "Where did you get that?" he asked calmly and quietly, staring directly at the radio on the bed.

"From your house…" She could hear the guilt in her own voice. "It was broken… so I bought you some batteries for it… and it still didn't work… so I charmed it."

He did not say anything. He simply kept staring at the radio, seemingly oblivious to her words.

"I… I'm sorry, sir… I just wanted to surprise you, so I brought it here with the intention of repairing it for you. I used a charm from one of the muggle enhancement books I bought in third year so that it would work here in the castle… I thought it may hold some sentimental value from your childhood… Please don't be angry…" She said cautiously.

He continued to stare at the radio, only increasing her discomfort further. She felt she would die if she had to spend one more agonizing moment in silence.

"Sir?" She asked quietly, only to have Snape continue to ignore her.

"Severus?" She asked in the same voice.

This time he turned to face her. There was an indecipherable look on his face. He gazed at her for a moment, then glanced at the radio, then turned back to her. She felt her tension mount as she prepared for the verbal lashing she was sure she was about to receive.

"Thank you." He said softly.

She was shocked. "You're welcome." She said.

The two of them stood there for almost a full minute, neither one making a sound. Hermione was shocked that Snape had not yelled at her. She had fully expected to have to explain her actions to Snape as to why she took the radio, and had been prepared to do just that. When he had thanked her instead, he had thrown her mind off balance.

She walked to the radio and lifted it from the bed with the intention of giving it to him. The volume knob snagged on the comforter and the sudden sounds of ballroom dance music filled the air. She dropped it on the bed in surprise and reached back for it, intending to shut it off.

"No- leave it." He said softly.

She looked up at him and saw that he was engrossed in listening to the soft music. He stood there for a moment, a content expression on his face, and she stared up at him in wonderment. Of all the things she thought of Severus Snape being, a musical connoisseur was not one of them.

"May I?" He asked, reaching out for the radio.

She nodded and handed it to him, and watched curiously as he took the radio in his hand and walked though to her living room. He placed the radio on the mantle and stood there, one hand on the mantle above the fireplace, eyes closed, listening to the booming music.

She stood in the doorway and took in the sight of Severus Snape listening intently to ballroom dance music. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it.

"Dance with me, Hermione?" He asked softly.

She looked up at him, dumbfounded, wondering if she had heard him correctly… Then wondering if maybe he had been drinking a little too much fire whiskey this particular evening.

"Er… what?" She asked with a confused look on her face.

He looked suddenly very embarrassed. "I apologize, I-"

"No!" She interrupted, the reality of his question sinking in. "It's just- I don't know how."

He furrowed his brows and looked at her curiously. "Did you not attend the Yule Ball as the guest of a Triwizard Champion?"

"Well, yes…" She answered hesitantly.

"Then you simply do not wish to dance with _me_?" He asked, his voice a little louder and more irritated than before.

"No… I… I just really don't know how to dance." She answered quickly.

"I seem to recall watching you do just that with Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball." He said plainly.

She felt her cheeks redden and she stared at her now-shuffling feet. "I didn't know how to dance then, either."

He stayed quiet for a moment, and she felt a guilty need to elaborate further. "I didn't know how to dance, so I cast a mimicking charm on my shoes. They just mirrored his foot movements. I had no idea what I was doing."

She sensed him shifting slightly but kept her gaze trained on the floor. "But that is a N.E.W.T. level charm. You were only in your fourth year." He stated in a scrutinizing tone.

"Well, I didn't know how to dance… What was I supposed to do? Say no? Miss the ball altogether?" She raised her chin and looked at him properly. "No one else had asked me. I didn't want to stay home…"

He smirked at her. "No, that is not…" He paused, then smirked at her again. "Come." He commanded gently.

He walked toward her and took her hand, leading her to the center of the living room. He moved the couch and the chair out of the way with a flick of his wand, giving them ample room for movement.

"I'm not kidding." She said seriously. "I really don't know how to dance."

"I shall teach you." He said plainly.

She donned a wane smile and looked up at him, then nodded in acceptance.

"Give me your hand." He told her, taking her right hand in his and holding it out at shoulder's height.

He placed his left hand on her waist and she instinctively rested hers on his shoulder. "Follow my lead." He directed her. He began to move his feet and she instinctively looked down at her own, causing him to correct her.

"No. Look into my eyes. The trick is to feel the movements, not see them." He told her gently.

She looked up into his eyes and he smirked politely at her, and she returned it with a smile of her own. She was clumsy at first, and trod on his feet many times before she began to get the hang of the movements. He ignored each of the assaults on his feet, keeping his gaze trained on hers, and encouraging her to do the same. Eventually she found herself gliding effortlessly around her living room, lost in a world other than her own.

She felt quite at home dancing with Snape. He was graceful with his movements and led her effortlessly throughout their dance. She was reminded of watching him work. He brewed potions with the same grace and ease that he was demonstrating to her now. She was almost disappointed when the song finished and their moment came to an end. He disengaged her hands and bowed charmingly, causing her cheeks to redden slightly.

He walked to the fireplace and shut off the radio, then turned his head to look at her.

"Where did you learn to dance?" She asked pleasantly.

"My mother taught me the summer before I was to attend Hogwarts. She wanted me to be, in her own words, a young gentleman. She also taught me proper dining etiquette." He smirked at her and rolled his eyes. "It was quite a grueling summer."

She laughed. "It couldn't have been that bad."

He smiled at her. "No, you are right. It was not all terrible… only the moments during which I was awake."

She laughed heartily at his joke.

"Thank you, Hermione, for indulging me. It was very generous of you." He said sincerely.

"Thank you, Severus, for teaching me to dance… for real, this time."

He smiled at her words. "You are welcome."

She thought about what she was about to say for a moment, then voiced her concerns out loud.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around this week. I don't get to see Harry and Ginny very often, and I guess I just… let the week run away with me." She said cautiously.

He looked at her for a moment with an indifferent look. "You have no reason to apologize to me. You have done nothing wrong. Why would you think that you had?"

She fidgeted with the line of her robes for a moment, then took a step towards him and looked him in the eyes before speaking. "I hadn't seen you all week, and then, tonight, you seemed… upset. I know that we've been spending our evenings together lately, and I didn't want you to think that I had forgotten about you… because I haven't."

"You are under no obligation to visit with me at any time." He stated definitively.

"I know…" She said, then hesitated. "But I want to. I enjoy your company."

He paused for a moment, holding her gaze, then replied. "And I, yours."

She smiled at his comment.

"Thank you, Hermione, for the radio, and for the dance. The hour is growing late… I should be going." He said.

She tried her best to mask the disappointment in her voice. "Ok."

He turned to leave and Hermione noticed that he had not taken his radio with him. When his hand reached the door handle, she called out to remind him.

"You forgot your radio!" She called to him.

He paused, then turned his head to look at her. "I will retrieve it later."

She smiled as he exited her chambers, wondering just how long she would have to wait for 'later' to arrive.

**Author's Note:**

I expect to post sixteen before the end of the week… most likely much sooner. Seventeen is done and eighteen had a few small kinks to be worked out before I could feel comfortable posting sixteen, but they are all taken care of now. As soon as the regulars are caught up, I'll post again.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: NightmaresDreamscapes

I would like to give a heartfelt thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. This chapter in particular was a joy to write, and I hope you all enjoy reading it. When you're done, I would appreciate anyone who has time to leave a review of the chapter in the REVIEWS section. We writers really have nothing else to go on but your thoughts and reactions. Thank you all again for following my little piece of SS/HG bliss. And now, on with the show:

.0.

**Chapter Sixteen: Nightmares and Dreamscapes**

The following day was a taxing one, to say the least. She had nearly cried when bidding farewell to Harry and Ginny. She probably would have done just that, if Tonks hadn't done it for her. Minerva informed her that Hermione would need to brew an entirely new order of Pepper-Up potions and Skele-grow, as the ones in the hospital wing had been inadvertently blown to pieces by a confunded Dennis Creevey. Hermione had wanted to start the brewing immediately, as those two particular potions took at least two weeks to complete, but Minerva had other plans for her. 

Hermione found herself actually taking over the role of her ruse. Professor Slughorn had asked her to take over his classes for the remainder of the week. Apparently he had a business opportunity that just could not wait, and would be gone from Tuesday through Friday for said endeavor. She had offered up Professor Snape as a more than adequate prospect for a replacement, but Tonks had politely pointed out that a 'Ministry Official' would look quite suspicious teaching potions classes at Hogwarts. Despite her protests to Minerva that she was in no way qualified to be teaching, four o'clock that afternoon found her doing just that.

"Now, if you will all turn to page three hundred and ninety-"

She was cut off by a frantic third year waving his hand in the air as if it was on fire.

"Yes?" She asked him.

"Where's professor Slughorn?" The young blonde haired boy asked sharply.

"He has business to attend to. Now, turn to page- _Yes_, Mr. Plimpton?"

"Are you a professor?" The boy asked smugly.

"Er… yes, I am. Now, turn to page- yes, what is it this time Mr. Plimpton?"

"You look way too young to be a professor." He told her arrogantly.

"Thank you. Now, turn to page- MR. PLIMPTON! If you interrupt my class one more time I shall hex you with a bout of boils in a place so private you will not be able to sit on a broom for a month!"

That shut him up. Hermione smirked, "Now… turn to page three hundred and ninety four."

……………………..

That evening she found herself, as usual, sitting in the right high-backed chair in Severus' living room, engrossed in a book that he had recommended to her.

"Eh-hem." He mock-coughed, clearly seeking to gain her attention.

"Hmm?" She said, not looking up from her book.

"I was just wondering, how your classes went today." He asked her smoothly.

She dog-eared the page she was reading and placed her book down on the couch beside her, then turned herself to face Snape. "They were alright… I guess."

He arched a brow at her.

"Well, I did have this one third year tell me that I look too young to be a teacher, but I set him straight." She told him plainly.

Snape looked amused. "Oh? And how precisely did you manage that?"

She grinned sheepishly and lowered her gaze to the floor, slightly embarrassed by what she was about to tell him. "I… er… told him that I would hex him with boils."

Snape sounded indifferent. "That is no so bad. I have used that threat myself a number of times."

She kept her gaze on the floor, her cheeks reddening. "Well, not exactly… I told him I would put them in a place that would prevent him from sitting on a broom for a month."

There was a moment of silence during which Hermione was sure that Snape was scowling at her disapprovingly. Suddenly, startling her slightly, he broke into a deep, baritone laugh. She whipped her head up to look at him and found herself in a state of shock. He had his head thrown back, book turned over in his lap, and was laughing straight up into the air.

"Sir?" She asked him.

"That was brilliant!" He told her, bringing his chin down and looking at her seriously, with the remnants of a smile still playing at his lips.

"No, no it wasn't." She said sternly. "I shouldn't have said that… It was inappropriate… I am the adult."

"Mmmm… yes, the adult." He smirked at her. "And I suppose the young lad was nothing other than polite, and simply curious as to how such a young witch could gain the prestigious position of Potions Mistress?"

"No, actually…" She said, clearly missing his sarcasm. "He was a right little brat."

Severus snorted. "Then he deserved it."

"Well… maybe… but I still shouldn't have done it." She told him seriously.

"Whatever you say, Hermione." He said, turning his book right-side up and bringing his eyes back to the text. 

Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall. Five past nine. 

"I suppose I should start the first batch of Pepper-Up potions… They need to simmer for eight hours before you can add anything vital anyways." She said, mostly to herself.

"As you wish." He replied, his eyes still on his book.

She removed herself quietly from his living room, placing the book she was reading on the mantle. She knew she would be back the following night; there was no reason to bring it with her when she left.

She crossed the laboratory and withdrew the ingredients that she would need for her project from the storage cupboard. She spread them out carefully along the lab table in front of her and began to work her magic… literally.

Three hours later found her in an exhausted state. She placed a stasis spell on the two cauldrons in front of her and began to clean up her work area. She looked longingly at the storage cabinet in the corner. If she could only manage to put out one bottle of skele-grow tonight, it would save her the trouble of doing so the following day. Her calendar for the next day was incredibly full. She had seven potions classes in total, and was still expected to brew potions for the hospital wing. Maybe being an Order member was not all it was cracked up to be…

She finally made up her mind that she simply could not complete the skele-grow, prepare for her morning classes, and sleep, all in the same night. She sighed and reached down to her book bag on the floor, pulling out several pieces of parchment and a quill.

She heard the sound of Snape exiting his chambers and felt him walk towards her. She heard his low voice speaking to her from behind her, and turned her head to face him.

"You should be sleeping… I believe you have a nine o'clock class in the morning." He said disapprovingly.

"I know…" She replied. "I'm just organizing my notes. I'll be done in a minute." She turned away from him to hide her eyes. She was exhausted, and she knew quite well that she would be working on her lesson plan for at least another couple of hours.

Snape made no comment, only grabbed a bottle of Dreamless Sleep out of the storage cupboard and walked back to his rooms.

_'Damn'_ She thought to herself. That was the last bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. She had been using it almost nightly to stave off her nightmares about... well, there was no point in thinking about those just now. She shuddered as she thought of… him. Her only hope was that once she was finally able to make it to bed, she would simply be too tired to dream.

She watched as Snape's door shut quietly and sighed as she returned to her work. She wished that she had the luxury of turning in at this hour. Gradually, her eyes began to droop, and her face fell slowly to her arms on the table in front of her.

…………………………………

_She was running down a deserted hallway in the Hogwarts Dungeons. The only light was that of the lazily dimming torches scattered sparsely along the walls. She quickened her pace, searching for someone, though she didn't know who. She stopped suddenly, her bare feet skidding painfully to a halt as her face nearly slammed in to the heavy wooden door in front of her, her pale white nightgown whipping around her bare ankles. She reached a hand out to the dark black handle in front of her- it was locked._

"Alohomora!" she yelled at the inanimate handle, though she had no wand to point at it.

The door mercifully flung open, revealing a dark room whose only illumination was that of a ray of light poking from somewhere above, revealing a small circle of visibility approximately ten feet in diameter in the very center of the room. She walked slowly, hesitantly, toward the two figures standing in the middle of the spotlight. The taller man was standing with his back to her. He was dressed in large, bulky robes, the hood of which was brought up over the back of his head, obstructing him from her view. He stood in front of the other figure, effectively blocking the second person from her sight.

She continued to walk towards the pair, wanting, needing, to see whatever was going on. When she was close enough she saw that the second man was Theodore Smith. He was dressed in the same dark robes as the man with his back to her. He caught her eye and donned an evil grin, sneering at her as she continued her approach.

"Kill her." He seethed, shifting his eyes to the figure with his back to her.

The other man turned around, and she stopped dead in her tracks, only steps away from Snape. He held out his left hand and dropped the object he was holding in it- it was his Death Eater mask. Raising his wand hand towards her, she could almost feel the tip of the long, dark piece of wood as it rested only millimeters from her collarbone.

"Things are not as they seem, Miss Granger." He droned malevolently.

She tried to turn and run, but found her feet were frozen to the hardwood floor beneath them. She turned her head to the right and found that Theodore had transformed into Lord Voldemort. He stared malevolently at her for several seconds before she heard his snake-like voice calling out to Snape.

"Kill her now, Severussss!"

Her eyes widened in fear. She turned to Snape, pleading with him to help her.

"Severus! Severus, please!" she pleaded with him. Why was he doing this? Why was he with Theodore? Where did Voldemort come from? Why wasn't Severus lowering his wand?

"Goodbye, Miss Granger." He said in a low, calculating voice.

"No! Please! Severus!" She yelled to him in a weak, frightened voice. 

"What's the matter, Hermione?" She heard from the right, where she saw that Voldemort had transformed back into Theodore. She turned her head and gazed firmly into Snape's eyes. 

"Yes, what ever could be the matter, Hermione?" She heard Snape say softly from a face hidden in shadow beneath his still-upright hood.

"Hermione…" He said more loudly, more urgently.

"Hermione!"

Her eyes snapped open, and she could feel the tears sliding from the corners of them, down her heated cheeks. She looked up at the face of her former potions professor and jumped back, falling from her heightened platform and landing harshly on the cement floor below her. She felt the back of her head smack hard against the blunt surface below it, blurring her vision with a powerful burst of stars. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to be able to see clearly again.

When she opened her eyes a second time, Snape's face was only inches from her own.

"No!" She screamed at him, pushing her hands to the floor on either side of her waist, trying desperately to pull her body backwards away from the man in front of her. "Get away from me!"

He lifted his upper body back to a righted position, staring down at her with a look of deep confusion on his face. He stood there in silence, never tearing his gaze from her, watching her pull herself away from him.

"Hermione, what-"

"No!" She cut him off, shutting her eyes tightly once again as the pain in the back of her head began to throb and course down her neck and into her shoulders, wrapping itself in front of her eyes and searing into her sinus cavity.

"Miss Granger!" He yelled to her, taking full advantage of his lung capacity as he did so.

She opened her eyes again and chanced a glance to her right. She was confused for a moment as she looked at the room around her. It was not the same, dark room that she had seen only seconds before. She searched to her left, noticing the lab table with the stilled cauldrons sitting happily on top of it. She brought her eyes back to Snape and traced them up his body- he was not wearing the same, bulky robes that he had just been ensconced in. He was in plain black silk pajama pants that showed dimly under the bottom of his black, more fitting night robes.

She continued to trace his body with her eyes, raising them to his shoulders, and eventually his face. She realized that he was no longer hiding his face with the oversized hood of the bulkier robes.

She felt her arms shaking beside her as they continued to support the weight of her propped upper body. Suddenly it all hit her- she had fallen asleep at the lab table; it was just a dream. She felt her muscles relax, then tighten again as the memories of the horrid nightmare washed over her. Tears ran more freely down her face now, falling to her chest or to the floor beside her with a silent splat.

He seemed to notice the change in her demeanor, because he took a tentative step in her direction. He walked around to her left side and kneeled down beside her, placing a hand in the middle of her back in order to take the tension off of her increasingly shaking arms. He brushed the sticky hair from the sides of her face and tucked it behind her ears, looking pitifully at her for a moment before bringing his eyes to hers.

"Hermione, are you alright?" He asked her in a hushed whisper.

"Severus…" She managed to squeak out before breaking into a fit of sobs.

He pushed gently on her back and brought her to a seated position on the floor, nudging himself closer to her, touching his knees to the side of her thigh.

She brought her hands to her face and sobbed tears of relief into her sweaty palms. She felt him move his hand on her back up between her shoulder blades and begin to rub soft circles over it with his right palm. She leaned into him and was rewarded with a second arm wrapped around the other side of her, resting strongly on her lower back, safely holding her to his chest.

"It was h-horrible." She told him between sobs, her hands now moving from her face to around his midsection, hugging him tightly.

"I know." He said in an almost inaudible whisper as he stopped circling her back long enough to move her immense frock of curls off of it, over to and in front of her shoulder and out of the way, before continuing his soothing caresses.

They sat like that for several minutes, Hermione silently and tearfully letting out all of her pent up frustrations and fears, Snape sitting in silence, comforting her with nothing other than a strong embrace and a shoulder to cry on.

Eventually, she lifted her head from his chest, staring for a few seconds at the dark pool of wetness that her tears had created on it. She lifted her chin to see him, and she saw the form of a gentle smile sitting on his lips. She brought her gaze to his and saw a warmth in his eyes that she did not usually associate with Snape.

"Are you alright?" He questioned her again in a sincere tone.

"Yes. I- I'm sorry, Severus." She wiped the remainder of the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "You must think I'm incredibly silly."

"Yes, I do." He said, though she could tell by his tone of voice and the kind smirk still on his lips that he was joking. "Only a silly Gryffindor could fall asleep at a laboratory table long enough to experience a nightmare."

She began to chuckle lightly then stopped immediately as she felt the pain in the back of her head radiate down her spine once again. He furrowed his brow and frowned deeply, looking at her as if waiting for her to say something. He freed his wand hand from around her torso and brought it to the back of her head. Whatever incantation he used, he directed it silently. Immediately she felt the pain diminish from the back of her neck, creeping back up her spine and disappearing as it hit the spot on the back of her head from whence it initiated.

"Are these dreams a normal occurrence?" He asked softly.

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the spot of wetness on his chest.

"Would you like to discuss it with me?" He asked quietly.

She fidgeted with a loose curl while contemplating whether or not to inform him of the details of her dream. Eventually, she decided that it would be childish not to tell him. It was only a dream, after all. 

"I was in the dungeons…" she began. "And I was running, and I found it--- a dark room. There was some sort of spotlight in the middle, and you and Theodore Smith were standing in the light." Snape snorted. "Then he laughed, and told you to-"

She stopped and inhaled a deep breath, pacing herself before she regaled the rest of her dream.

"He told you to kill me…"

Snape didn't say anything at this point, only sat in silence, staring blankly at her, waiting for her to finish. 

"You turned around," she continued eventually, "and you acted like you were going to do it. You said '_things are not as they seem, Miss Granger,_' and then you pointed your wand at me…"

Snape contemplated her for a moment before speaking. "Is that all?"

"Yes." She said, glancing at her hands for a moment before returning her gaze to Snape. "Then I woke up."

Snape looked at her with an expression that she couldn't quite place. "Then I suppose it is lucky that I happened upon you when I did. I am still unsure of why you felt it necessary to be in the laboratory at three o'clock in the morning. I seem to remember telling you to go to bed, shortly after midnight."

"I know…" She said as she blushed guiltily. "I wanted to finish my lesson plans for the morning, and, seeing as I was already having trouble sleeping..."

"Yes, I figured as much." He arched his brow menacingly, though somehow it no longer had the same effect. 

"What were you doing up?" She asked him innocently.

"When I hear someone screaming from outside of my chambers, I tend to rouse rather easily." He answered sarcastically.

She blushed, thinking to herself, 'So I was screaming…'

"I'm sorry…" She began, but he cut her off with the raising of his hand.

"There is no need to apologize. We cannot control the happenings of our dreams." He said.

"It just seemed so… so real." She said, finding interest in a spot on the floor next to her.

She felt his fingers under her chin as he brought her gaze to his. "Do you believe that I would ever harm you, Hermione?"

She gazed into his eyes for a second before answering him. "No." She shook her head ever so slightly, keeping her eyes fixed on his. "Never."

She felt different, somehow, sitting there on the lab floor, in Snape's arms. She reflected on how strong those arms were, how safe she felt while she was cradled in them. She was seeing a side of Snape… Severus… that she had never truly seen before. He was holding her, comforting her… caring for her?

She stared into his large, dark orbs, and felt herself melt under his gaze. He was so different from anyone that she'd ever known. He was rude, and sarcastic, and stiff, and reserved. But he was also intelligent -brilliant, even- and powerful, and kind… when he wanted to be.

And now, here she was, cradled in the arms of the man of a thousand faces. He was a mystery… like a book in the restricted section of the library that she wanted more than anything in the world to be able to read. Maybe this was her opportunity. Maybe all he needed in order to open the cover to his mysterious novel of a soul was for someone to reach out to him. Maybe all he wanted was for someone to understand him. Maybe, just maybe… that someone could be her.

She continued to gaze into his deep, dark eyes as she raised her hand, slowly, to his face. She cupped his cheek in her palm, stroking the rough, unshaven skin, back and forth with her thumb. She began to lean closer to him, inclining her chin so that her lips grew closer to his with each intake and exhalation of breath.

"Hermione," he breathed in a low whisper. "We can not-"

"Yes we can." She said quietly, cutting him off mid-sentence.

She felt her eyelids droop lazily as she leaned in deeper. She felt his warm breath on her forehead as she reached up for him with her mouth. She slipped her hand from on top of his cheek and slid it around to the back of his neck, entangling her fingers in his soft, silky hair.

She was growing closer with every breath. She could feel her heartbeat quicken with every slowly passing second. The skin on the back of her neck began to quiver with anticipation. She wondered inwardly what he would taste like… wondered if his lips would feel as soft and as tender as they had when she'd brushed them on the night of his attack.

His breath was hot on her upper lip as she reached him. They paused slightly, just before their two expectant mouths made contact. She could feel his breath slide between her partially open lips, filling her mouth with warmth, causing her anticipation to grow ten-fold. 

Her entire body tingled as his lips met hers, the silky, tender feeling of them stroking her mouth gently, tenderly, passionately. She tangled her fingers further up into his hairline, unconsciously pulling him towards her, bringing him deeper into the kiss.

She heard the soft sound of his wand clattering to the floor just before he raised his hand to the back of her neck. She felt him twist his fingers in between a mass of her voluptuous curls, wrapping his long, rough fingers around her neck just around her hairline. He was pulling her further into the embrace as well.

Her senses were alive now, as she wrapped her left arm around his waist and pulled him tightly to her, adjusting her legs so that she was kneeling next to him, sitting her thighs on top of her calves. They were both kneeling, their thighs pressing against their calves, legs mirroring one another from the side. He wrapped the arm that was not tucked away in her curls around her waist, pulling her flat up against him, leaving no room for even air between their upper bodies. She felt her breath leave her lips with the pressure of her chest being pushed up against his, and managed to breathe out his name in pleasure.

"Severus…"

He groaned from somewhere within his chest at the mention of his name, tightening his grip on her hair. She had just had the thought that she could sit like this forever when she felt his arms whip away from her sharply.

"Aargh!" He growled, clutching his left arm in his right hand.

She sat there for a moment, stunned at the sudden removal of his lips from her own. "What is it?" she asked him nervously.

He sprang to his feet and hurried from the room. She rose herself and followed loosely behind, stopping when she reached the center of the laboratory. She saw him disappear into his chambers and heard his bedroom door slam against the wall as he opened it with force. Less than a minute later he reappeared in the entry room, bulgy black Death Eater robe on his body, his mask held loosely in his left hand. 

"Severus?" She called weakly to him, as he made his way across the room towards her.

"I must go. Stay here. Do not leave the dungeons." He said forcefully, no trace of the tender man from moments ago apparent at all.

She said nothing, merely nodded in acceptance of his instructions. He turned to leave, then hesitated, and turned round to face her again.

"I shall return." He stated sorrowfully, as if he was aware of something horrible that awaited him upon his departure.

He turned to leave again and she flung her arms around his back, squeezing him tightly from behind, her hands clenched together to make a large fist in the center of his chest.

"Be careful, Severus." She told him, trying not to sound too overly concerned at his departure. 

Now it was his turn to say nothing. He merely nodded a quick yes, as she could see from behind by the movement of his hair shaking up and down while hanging loosely at his shoulders.

She reluctantly released him and he walked away from her, through laboratory and out the door. She heard him ward the door from the outside and she walked from the laboratory to her living room, taking a glum seat on the scarlett couch.

If timing is everything, then everything had just gone to hell…

………………………………..

Several hours had passed, as she could tell by the wane light that was slowly creeping in through the enchanted bedroom windows.

_'Why was he being summoned at three o'clock in the morning?'_ She thought angrily, for the hundredth time in the last three hours. 

She had to admit, she had been growing increasingly worried since his departure.

"Do all summonses take this long?" She asked herself out loud, hoping that they did, and that this was not a special circumstance.

She rose from the couch and paced the room, worriedly biting her lower lip between her teeth. She had never been present when he had been summoned before. She was glad that this was, so far, the only time that she would have to be present for such a task. She allowed her anxious steps to take her through her living room, and in to the laboratory. She sat gingerly on the edge of one of the tables, absently gnawing on her thumbnail. 

At first, the events of their encounter in the middle of the night were all that she could seem to think about. She kept remembering how natural his hand felt on her neck, how supportive and full of life his eyes had been when he had looked at her, how tender his lips felt pressed firmly against hers…

She wasn't exactly sure what would happen when Snape returned. He had kissed her, passionately as it were, but he had hesitated before doing so. He had even voiced his reservations out loud beforehand: _'Hermione, we can not…'_

She shook the thought from her mind. He had kissed her. That was that. He had heard her scream at her unfortunate nightmare, and had come running to be by her side. He had comforted her, allowed her to cry against his chest, and had held her, safely, securely, in his arms. He cared about her. He must…

As the hours had rolled on, her thoughts had moved to more important matters. She had begun wondering where he was, what evil task Voldemort had him carrying out, and whether or not he was safe while performing it.

She had just moved herself back into her living room again when she suddenly heard the laboratory door open. She jumped from the sofa to her feet, hurriedly walking through her opened living room door and into the laboratory. She stopped as she saw his robes disappear through his chamber door, wondering why he had rushed so determinedly into his personal rooms without so much as acknowledging her presence. She walked cautiously across the laboratory and started as she heard his bedroom door shut with unnecessary force.

She walked warily up to the other side of the door and paused just outside his chamber entrance. She knocked lightly, listening for his voice with an outstretched ear. 

"Severus?" she said softly, knocking once more, this time a little harder than the first.

Nothing.

"Severus?" she said a little louder, this time rendering a response from the inhabitant of the room.

"Go away" she heard him yell with a strangled voice, before he broke into a fit of hacking coughs. 

Now she was _really worried_.

She tried the doorknob and realized that it was locked. She drew her wand from her waistband and pointed it at the door, stating definitively "Alohomora."

…Nothing.

"Severus!" She yelled. "Severus, let me in!"

She waited for a response but got none, kicking her worry up a notch and making her stomach churn on the inside. There was only one thing left to do.

"Dissendium!" She shouted at the door, effectively achieving her goal of opening it.

The door flung inward and tore from its hinges, slamming against the wall on the inside of the living room and bouncing off of it before crashing, with a bang, to the floor. The room was dark except for the light of a dimly-lit candle on the mantle. 

"Severus?" she called softly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room.

She heard a hacking cough coming from inside his bedroom, and made her way towards the unnerving sound. Pointing her wand in front of her as she went, she muttered "lumos" into the darkness. Opening the bedroom door, she was able to see a couple of feet in front of her now, and stopped abruptly when she saw the dark figure sitting before her.

He was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, knees held loosely against his chest with his arms. He looked pale -even paler than usual- and sweat was dripping from his brow down his cheeks and nose.

"Severus!" She cried, running to his side. She kneeled beside him, and, as she did so, noticed that he was trembling visibly. She pulled his handkerchief from her back pocket –she had taken to carrying it with her at all times by now- and wiped his forehead with the cloth. 

He wasn't looking at her. He was staring straight ahead, as if transfixed by some interesting spot on the wall. Finally, after several agonizing seconds, he turned his head towards her. Reaching her eyes with his own, he said softly "The nightstand. The blue bottle."

She obeyed immediately, holding her wand in front of her and yelling "lumos maximus!" as she made her way to the opposite side of the four-poster bed.

Instantly the entire room ignited in a mass of light, as if someone had flipped a switch on the wall. She opened the nightstand drawer and immediately found the bottle he was referring to, picking it up gingerly and rushing to his side once more. She unstopped the cover of the bottle and held it up in front of him.

"All of it?" she questioned, earning her an affirmative nod from Snape.

She poured the contents of the bottle into his mouth and he drank it gratefully, draining the vial down to the very last drop. The shaking slowed, and eventually stilled, as Snape's face began to regain what little color it usually held. His eyelids drooped heavily as his arms fell from around his knees, hitting his wrists on the floor as they came to rest there.

His unconscious state was apparent by his steady breathing and the rapid movement of his eyes from under their lids. It looked like whatever potion countered his condition had also contained some form of a sleeping draught.

She raised her wand and levitated his limp form toward the bed. She paused with him in mid-air so that she could pull back the covers of the four-poster. She hesitated, wondering whether or not to put him to bed in his current attire.

"Well, you won't sleep very comfortably in that outfit, now will you?" she said out loud, though obviously to herself.

She magic'd his robe off of his body and hung it neatly over the baseboard. She then removed his shoes –by hand this time- and levitated him on top of the sheets. She pulled the covers up over his chest and stared at him for several moments without saying a word. She brushed the matted hair off of his forehead and tucked it behind each of his ears, just as she had done the night of his attack.

She stood there, watching him in silence, for nearly an hour. She took to the muggle practice of checking his pulse at the wrist with her index and middle fingers, repeating the task every few minutes until she was satisfied that his heart was beating steadily. More than once she had found herself sitting on the edge of his bed, needlessly adjusting the covers around him, fluffing his pillows and re-tucking his hair behind his ears.

Eventually, satisfied that he was resting comfortably, she exited his room, pausing at the doorway before she did so. "Goodnight, Severus." She whispered in his direction.

She crossed the laboratory and entered her own rooms, guiltily shutting her chamber door as she remembered how she had destroyed his own. 

She walked to the bed and crawled immediately under the covers, picturing his face in her mind before she drifted off to sleep.

If she thought her earlier dreams were disturbing, she hadn't seen anything yet…


	18. Chapter Severnteen: Legillimency

I would like to dedicate this chapter to everyone that reviewed after chapter 16. Your reviews were incredibly inspiring, and I posted this chapter right after I read them all. You guys are wonderful.

Please continue reviewing after this chapter… it really does help to hear what you think. )

-

**Chapter Seventeen: Legillimency**

Hermione awoke to something beating against her leg unmercifully. She picked up the damnable magic alarm clock and tossed it across the room, where it collided unceremoniously with the wall.

"Ruddy magical alarm…" She managed to mutter, albeit groggily.

The magic alarm clock was charmed to do several things. If she did not shut it off within five minutes of it going off for the first time, it would ring louder. If another twenty minutes went by with no attempts to silence it, it would start sounding off constantly, not intermittently. In the end, if it hadn't been shut off properly within a half hour of first sounding, it would jump to the setter and beat the person nastily until they woke up, then-

"A half hour!" She yelped, jumping out of bed and cursing herself for smashing the alarm. She ran into the living room and saw by the clock on the wall that it was five minutes to nine.

"!" She spat, running back into her bedroom and slipping on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, topping it off with her high-necked, very Snape-like teaching robes.

She tucked her hair up in a messy, unruly bun on the top of her head and allowed the frizziness in the front to remain. What choice did she have? She was going to be late! And on her second day, no less!

She grabbed her bag with her teaching materials and lesson plans and stormed out of her rooms and through the laboratory door into the dungeon hallways, not even having enough time to check on Snape's condition.

By the time she reached the Potions classroom, it was three past nine. She strode into the room and sat behind her desk, not wanting to look any of her newly-acquired pupils in the eyes. After several minutes of sorting through her paperwork, which was mostly just a distraction to allow her heart to stop racing from the run to the classroom, she chanced a glance at her class. Not surprisingly, there was a young know-it-all with his hand held high in the air, and a smug smirk on his face.

"Yes, Mr. Plimpton?" She questioned him in an exasperated tone.

"You're late." He said plainly, lowering his hand to the desk in front of him.

"Astute observation. Is that all?"

"No." He said smugly. "Are you going to teach today, or should we use this as a free period?"

Oooh… She was really starting to loathe this little boy…

"The instructions…" She drawled in her very best Snape imitation, "are on the board."

She flicked her wand in the direction of the blackboard and, sure enough, the instructions magically appeared. The class as a whole looked impressed. Mr. Plimpton looked crestfallen.

"You are to brew the Babbling Beverage by the end of the double period. There will be- _Mr. Plimpton_," she said, giving him a piercing glare, "if you interrupt me one more time, I shall have you test out your own babbling beverage before you are to attend you next class. I'm sure that Headmistress McGongall would be less than thrilled if you were unable to perform adequately in her classroom because of your inability to speak properly. Perhaps I will suggest to her to have you attempt to transfigure a part of your own anatomy… Being unable to form coherent sentences should render quite amusing results. Care to test that theory?" She finished, arching one brow at the child. That was the last time he spoke out of turn.

The rest of the day went brilliantly.

Running on about two hours of sleep, she was too tired to think, so at the beginning of every class, she simply waved her wand at the board and told the children to complete the Babbling Beverage and have it bottled by the end of class. Her classes were too tightly stacked to allow her a lunch period, which resulted in her feeling nearly starved by the time she made her way back to the dungeons at approximately four o'clock that afternoon. She needed a nap. '_No- food, then a nap. NO- food, then a long, luxurious bath, then a nap. Yes, that will do quite nicely._'

She entered the laboratory and glanced to the left, noticing that Snape's door was properly returned to its hinges. She stared longingly at her own rooms, as she was hoping to order in dinner from a house elf before her bath and nap, but felt an inner urge to check on Snape first. She walked to his door and knocked, waiting several seconds on the other side before he answered.

"Hi." She said simply, looking him over from top to bottom. "It looks like you are feeling better…"

"I am." He said plainly, his face unreadable.

"May I come in?" She asked.

He stepped to the side and motioned with one arm for her to enter the room. She walked to the middle of the room and stood there with her arms by her sides. She noticed that the long, luxurious couch was back in place of one of his usual arm chairs. She smiled. She loved that couch. Snape sat himself on it, resolutely looking in the other direction.

"I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude." Snape said after a few moments of silence.

"You do not owe me anything." She said plainly. 

"I did not ask for your help-"

"I know." She said softly, cutting him off.

He nodded absently, staring into the fire. She watched him curiously. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect his demeanor to be like so soon after a summons. She did expect him to be somewhat upset. However, right now, he was just completely withdrawn. She watched his screwed up face and figured that he was deep in thought. He wasn't looking at her, but she could see part of his look from the side. It was empty, and his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"I'll just leave you to your thoughts…" She said softly, turning towards the doorway. 

"Stop." He commanded in a mild tone.

She immediately stopped her journey toward the door and turned to look at him. He rose from the sofa and walked towards her, stopping only when he was directly in front of her, merely a foot or so from her body. She did not really know how to feel. On the one hand, his face and tone of voice had been innocent enough so far. On the other hand, he had just stepped to within reaching distance of her, and was giving her a deep, penetrating look.

"I trust that anything I am to tell you will not leave this room, Hermione?" He asked seriously.

"You have my word, Severus." She said softly.

He stared deeply into her eyes for a moment, apparently searching to see if he could trust her or not. She caught on to his attempt at figuring her out, and offered her assurance up freely.

"I could give you a wand oath, if you would prefer it." She said, quite seriously, looking straight into his eyes. 

"That is not necessary." He stated plainly.

He took a small step back and waived his arm toward the sofa, indicating for her to take a seat. She did so, and he surprised her by sitting on the cushion next to her. She patiently waited as he stared off into the fire once more, seemingly oblivious to the fact that _he_ had been the one to ask _her_ to take a seat.

After several minutes of nothing but Silence, Hermione's patience was rewarded. Severus tore his gaze away from the blazing fire and looked at her. His look was different, somehow. It was not his usual, sarcastic Potions Master face. It was not the angry, aggressive face that it could become when he was truly seething. It was just- empty. 

"Hogwarts is in trouble, Hermione." He told her quietly.

She restrained her emotions- all of them- from her fear, to her anger, to her sadness, to her eagerness to hear more. She simply nodded at him to continue.

"The Dark Lord has been planning an attack on the castle. His intent has spread to far more than just the muggle borns, Hermione. He believes us capable of building an army out of the students."

"That's ridiculous! Some of them are mere first years with no idea-"

"Let me finish." He interrupted softly. "Please."

She nodded, and he continued.

"The Dark Lord believes that McGonagall will use the children of this school to try to overtake him. He plans to destroy the school… and everyone in it."

Hermione gasped. Snape allow her a moment to unclamp her hands from their new position covering her mouth, and then continued.

"I have no idea when this attack is to take place. I may only have a modicum of warning, or I may know as far as a month in advance. Of that particular fact, I am not certain."

Hermione nodded, desperately fighting to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She needed to be strong now. She needed for Severus to fill her in on the rest of the facts. If he saw her become emotional, he might not do that. She had to bite back her emotions and listen. 

"The Dark Lord has demanded that I deliver to him a way into the castle. That, I can not, and will not, do." He said, hanging his head slightly.

Hermione took the moment of silence to interrupt. "Is that why you returned in that state last night? He punished you, because he was angry with you for not having completed the task he set for you?"

Snape nodded, fixing his gaze on the couch between them.

Eventually he brought his eyes back up to meet hers. Hermione looked deep into this tortured soul's dark orbs. She felt deeply for the man before her. She couldn't even imagine what his life had been like pre-Hogwarts, but she knew from what he had told her about his father, that it could not have been pleasant. Then, once at Hogwarts, he had been teased mercilessly by Harry's father and Godfather, making his time at school a living hell. Finally, he found out that he was –at least in his mind- responsible for the deaths of Lily and James Potter. At least that last bit of horror allowed him to see the error of his ways…

Hermione was snatched from her thoughts by Snape standing up sharply.

"Get out!" He bellowed.

She looked at him in a deep state of sorrowful confusion. What could she have possibly done to upset him? He was standing before the couch, his eyes ablaze with a fire of fury, pointing a stick-straight arm toward the door.

"Severus…"

"I do no need, nor do I want, _your pity_! Get out!" He roared.

She realized why he was so angry. He had been using legillimency on her when she was recounting her knowledge of his past. She suddenly felt very guilty.

"Severus, I don't pity you." She implored. He snorted and crossed both arms over his chest, looking away from her.

"I don't." She reaffirmed.

"I saw your thoughts." He said coldly.

"Yes, and you invaded my privacy without my permission, and I demand that it not happen again. You don't need to act the spy with me, Severus. You can trust me. Surely you can see that by now?" She tried to catch his gaze but he was still looking away from her.

"I honestly don't pity you Severus." She said forcefully.

"I saw what you were thinking about, Hermione. I know-"

"You _know_, that you are a stubborn man who only sees what he wants to see." She said, her voice loud enough to carry over his. "I do not pity you, Severus. I never have. I admire you." She said seriously.

With those words his eyes snapped back to hers, and he had a look of great questioning in his gaze. He searched her eyes, then the rest of her face, apparently under the impression that the answer to his question could be found somewhere on the surface of her head. Eventually, his eyes sunk to the floor in front of him, and his shoulders slumped forward slightly.

"I am not a man to be admired, Hermione. I have done terrible things. I continue… to do… terrible things." He said, his voice no more than a whisper.

"You do what you must for the good of the Order, Severus. You took a wand oath. You have no choice." She said plainly, rising to meet him.

He looked uncomfortable at her initiated close proximity to his body. She smirked at the odd sight of Severus Snape looking uneasy. He took a slight step back, and she followed him. The pain in his eyes had subsided, and she took that as a good sign. She reached a hand up to his cheek, and he unconsciously leaned into her touch. His eyes closed lazily.

"I told you that I do not need your pity." He said, eyes still closed, head still leaning into her warm palm.

"And I told you, that I do not pity you." She said softly.

He opened his eyes and looked timidly into hers. "I am not a nice man, Hermione." He said softly.

"No, you are not." She said, and let a smile cross her face as she looked at him.

She inclined her chin upwards and reached for him with her lips, stalling, as if waiting for permission to kiss him. He looked directly into her eyes and she felt his breaths grow ragged. 

"I am too old for you." He breathed.

"No, you are not."

"I am you professor."

"Not for over two years, now."

"I am stubborn, and do not consider the feelings of others during my actions."

"That's for damn sure." She said, her smile becoming more prominent with every failed deterrent of his.

"I-"

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Do shut up."

She only had a second to recognize the shocked look on his face before she put a prompt end to that. She lifted her lips to his and kissed him, softly at first, but then harder, more out of yearning than out of endearment now. She guided him down with her so that they were both sitting on the couch, facing each other. She leaned back and pulled him gently on top of her, allowing him to soften the kiss. It was gentle, soothing, comforting. She shut her eyes and let the moment take her over. She felt the soft fabric of the couch against the back of her head, and then she felt herself drift away…

………………….

She sat bolt upright and looked down at the dark fabric of the couch before she realized what had happened.

"Oh, bloody hell!" She snapped.

She heard a deep chuckle from behind her, and a strong hand cupped her shoulder. She turned around to see Snape grinning at her in apparent amusement.

"I fell asleep." She said softly.

"I had noticed." He replied.

'_Oh, no. He's going to think that I didn't enjoy kissing him. He's going to think that I don't want him. He's going to think-_'

Noticing her panicked look, he stepped in. "It is quite alright, Hermione." He said soothingly. "I realize that you must have gotten very little sleep last night, and I know that you had a full day of classes before, thoughtfully, coming to my rooms to check on me. I am surprised you made it as long as you did before slipping into unconsciousness."

She smiled gratefully at his correct interpretation of the events.

"Now," he said, releasing her shoulder and stepping toward the door, "we are expected in the great hall for dinner."

"We almost never take dinner in the great hall!" She said in protest.

"Yes," he countered, "a fact that was annoyingly pointed out to me by Minerva just last evening. She requests our attendance more often, starting with tonight. Come."

She grudgingly extricated herself from his comfortable couch and followed him into the laboratory. They walked in silence to the great hall, but any past air of tension was null and void. She was happy walking next to him, and was even happier knowing that he wanted her to.

Dinner was quite the experience. Tonks made a show of continually telling her that she looked 'tussled,' to which she simply responded that she had just woken up from a nap. She heard Minerva tell Severus, several times, that he looked flushed, and should seek bed rest immediately.

Between Viktor leering at Hermione, and Snape glaring at Viktor, the entire ordeal seemed to drag on forever. Eventually the meal ended, the students dispersed, and the staff exited the great hall.

She shook off Tonks as she made for the dungeons, saying that she had a class in the morning to prepare for. (It was actually true, though she had no intention of preparing for said class). She rushed into the laboratory and waited for Snape. And waited... And waited…

Roughly forty-five minutes later, she was about to form a search party, when he finally entered the room.

"And just where did you get off to?" She questioned him accusingly.

He gave her a smug smile and walked past her, carrying a large brown parcel in his left hand. She watched as he entered his quarters, leaving the chamber door open. She gave herself an emphatic sigh at his apparent cat and mouse game, and hastily followed him into his rooms.

She found Severus sitting in his arm chair with a smug look on his face. She stood in the doorway, surveying him for a moment, wondering what on earth he was up to. He had the suspicious brown parcel situated on his lap, and he was looking at her wryly.

"What are you up to?" She questioned him with a suspicious look.

He held the package out to her and she approached him, taking it from his grasp and holding it for a moment, looking it over in its still-wrapped enclosure. He waited patiently for her to either open it or question him about it. She chose the latter of the two.

"What's this?"

He gave her a small smirk. "I shall expect you to read it thoroughly before I agree to teach you. I refuse to go into this lightly."

She gave him a confused look for a moment and then opened the package. She tore the brown wrapping away slowly, and was delighted at what she found beneath. She found a thick, blue book entitled '_A beginner's Guide to Legillimency_', now held delightfully in her hands. She beamed up at him and let her hopes be aired freely.

"You will teach me?" She questioned enthusiastically.

"Only if you concede to read the entire book, front to back, before we begin. The mastery of Legillimency is an arduous task to undertake. It is much more difficult than Occlumency, and is not learned in anywhere near the same manner." He stated plainly.

She could feel her heart ache at the excitement of learning something so advanced. Her constant search for knowledge was something that she continually sought to quench. Legillimency would be a great way to accomplish that feat. He rose slowly, walking toward her, and snatched the book from her grasp. She gaped at him indignantly, wondering why he had taken back the book that he had just the moment before bestowed upon her.

"Not tonight." He said flatly. "Tonight you are exhausted, and you still have classes to teach tomorrow. Rest tonight, and, if you are feeling well enough to begin at such time, we will do so as soon as you have finished the book."

She felt like protesting. Her mind was reeling with the enticing thought of beginning her new journey deeper into the world of advanced magic, but her body knew she needed rest. Occlumency was draining itself, and with that course of magic one only sought to keep others _out_ of one's mind. Legillimency would require strength that she simply did not possess after a night of such little sleep. Grudgingly, she accepted his terms, and nodded her head in agreement.

"Good." He said, apparently satisfied. "Now, off to bed."

He gave her a slight smirk and she nodded her head at him. "Thank you, Severus." She said sweetly, then stood on her toes to give him a light kiss on his cheek. He didn't pull away, or make any form of protest. He simply flashed her an appreciative smile, handed her back the book, and turned towards his bedroom. She exited his rooms and found her way to her own, lying down immediately and attempting to find peace for the night.

She thought that sleep would be a difficult thing to attain in her current state of mind. She was excited, nervous and glad with the knowledge that she would be learning Legillimency in less than twenty-four hours' time. Apparently, her body was more powerful than her mind this particular evening. She fell into a slumber almost immediately.

…………………………..

The minutes seemed to pass with the speed of an injured blast-ended skrewt the next day. She found herself looking at the clock on the wall more times than she cared to remember. She skipped lunch entirely, hoping that a brisk walk around the castle in its stead would help the time to pass more quickly.

She found herself distracted during most of her classes. She didn't even deduct house points when Mr. Plimpton called her "_Crooky_" instead of "_Miss Crookshanks_." Truthfully, she barely even noticed, let alone cared.

Four o'clock just did not come fast enough. Finally, with a little jump of glee, her final class of the day ended. The moment all of her students had exited the classroom, she scurried out after them with lightning speed. She turned left, then right, then finally found herself at the entrance to the lab room of her and Severus' joint quarters. Just as she reached for the door handle, a hand caught her on the shoulder. 

"Hermimonee."

She let out an audible sigh, then turned to face Viktor.

"Hello, Viktor. What can I do for you?" She asked in a pleasant voice, effectively hiding her agitation at being held back from her anticipated studying.

"You haf not been at dinner very often this week. I haf been vondering vere you haf been." He answered her politely.

"I've been very busy with my classes, Viktor… In fact, I have a load of essays to grade at the moment…" She answered.

It was true. She did have a load of essays to grade. She just had no intention of doing so this evening.

"Vell come to dinner first. You vill need your strength for your grading." He said. 

"No, really, I-"

"Oi!" a distinct feminine voice cut her off.

Another audible sigh…

"Oi! Hermione! Comin' to dinner?" Tonks asked, quickly approaching her location.

'_Looks like I don't really have a choice in the matter, now does it?_'

"Erm… I suppose I could stop by for a moment… As I've just told Viktor, though, I have a lot of work to finish." She said, hesitantly walking between Tonks and Viktor on their way to the great hall.

"Nonsense!" Tonks countered. "You've got all weekend!" She taunted, giving Hermione a hearty slap on the back between her shoulder blades. 

Hermione grumbled… mostly under her breath, but she grumbled none the less. Was there really any way to tell them, '_No thanks, you lot, I would rather spend the entire evening reading a book to prepare me to take lessons from my snarky ex-professor than spend my weekend partying like a normal soon-to-be twenty year old_,' In the end, she decided there wasn't. Grudgingly, she followed a much too enthusiastic Tonks into the great hall for dinner.

Almost a full hour later, and after numerous excuses to both Tonks and Viktor as to why she could not join them in Minerva's study for a cocktail after supper, she left the great hall and made her way back to the dungeons.

"Making an entrance, are we?" Snape asked her from across the joint laboratory as she entered the room and shut the door behind her.

She gave him an exasperated sigh. "Tonks just would not shut up about my being at dinner…"

She gave him an apologetic look, and he waved her off with his right arm, seemingly not affronted by her lack of a dinner invitation to him. She walked briskly past him and into her own rooms, changing out of her robes and into a comfortable outfit of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She immediately pulled the Legillimency tome that Snape had given her out of the bottom drawer of her wardrobe, and set to studying. 

Eight hours later, she had finally finished. Not wanting to accost Snape at such a late hour, she decided it would be best for her to obtain a full night's rest before approaching him in a request for lessons.

She drifted off to sleep, only to wake the next morning with anticipation already settling a tight knot in her stomach. She rose from her bed, dressed in her normal muggle attire that she reserved mostly for the weekends, and set out of her rooms in search of Snape.

She didn't have to look far. There, in their join laboratory, stood Snape, sitting atop a stool behind one of the lab tables, nose ensnared in a book.

Without so much as a glance in her direction, he spoke to her. "I take it you spent the entirety of last evening reading?" He asked her in a bored voice.

"Yes."

"And, may I also presume, that you are up at the early hour of seven o'clock in the morning, wishing to start your lessons in Legillimency as soon as humanly possible?" He continued.

"Yes."

"Well, then let us have some breakfast." He said plainly, snapping his fingers for a house elf.

The nervous looking elf appeared at a point in the room between the two of them, and gave Snape a leery look. 

"But, sir, I thought we were-" She began.

"You should not attempt such advanced magic on an empty stomach, Hermione." He interrupted her, bringing his eyes up from his book for the first time that morning.

He looked at the house elf that stood between them, then pulled a piece of parchment and a quill from his robes. He scribbled something on the paper and held it out for the elf to take. Seemingly grudgingly, the elf approached him and daintily removed the parchment from his hand. With an audible 'POP!', the elf disappeared, and reappeared within a matter of seconds with a tray containing two bowls, two sets of silverware, and a two plates with grapefruit on them.

Snape pointed to the table in front of him, and the elf placed the tray atop it, immediately disapparating back to the kitchens. Snape placed a page marker in his book, shut it slowly, and proceeded to pull one of the bowls of oatmeal in front of him.

"Sit." He directed to Hermione, who hastily obliged.

They sat in silence for the duration of their meal, Hermione unsure as to whether or not she should interrupt Snape's breakfast with any of her numerous questions on the subject he was about to instruct her in.

Eventually both bowls and both plates were empty, and Snape vanished the mess with a wave of his wand and a non-verbal spell. He pointed to an empty space in the center of the room and conjured two comfortable looking arm chairs. He rose from the table without speaking, and took a seat in the chair farthest away. With a wave of his wand, he pointed the other chair to face him, and stared up at Hermione with a quirked brow.

"Well?" He offered her.

Hermione rose from the table and hastily took the seat opposite Snape, feeling a slight turning in her stomach as she did so. She looked up at him, waiting for him to make the first move, but he never did so. Frustrated, she eventually broke the silence.

"Severus?" She asked plainly.

He quirked that same all-knowing brow at her.

"Are you going to teach me Legillimency, or what?" She asked in an anticipatory tone. 

"Why, Hermione… I thought you would never ask." 

He spent the next hour or-so quizzing her on the tome that he had assigned her to read. Seemingly pleased with her retained knowledge of the text, he eventually let the conversation slip to the practical portion of the subject at hand.

"Legillimency…" He began "is a much harder subject to learn than Occlumency. You must teach your mind to view things without using your eyes."

"But, Severus," she interrupted, "the book says that in order to perform the act successfully, one must maintain eye contact."

He stared at her with an impassive face. "That is true. However, you are taking my words too literally. You will be using them to enter your subject's thoughts and memories, but, after that, your eyes will serve only as a link between the subject's mind and your own."

She nodded her head in encouragement for him to continue.

"Imagine, if you will, a set of muggle head phones. Yes, I know what muggle head phones are, Hermione. I am not daft, you know." He gave her an incredulous stare that made her blush. "Now, you plug those head phones into a musical device of some sort- say, a radio." Again, she blushed, thinking of the radio that she had fixed for him, and the events that had taken place after she presented it to him. "The radio provides the music. The headphones are your way of hearing the music. The only reason that you need the cord at all, is to maintain the link. That cord, in and of itself, serves no other purpose than to keep your headphones connected to the radio. That is how Legillimency works."

Her eyes widened at the sudden realization. "So, my eyes, if you will, will be acting as the cord. The radio is my subject's mind, and the headphones are my own."

"Precisely." He replied, giving her an appraising look. "Now, much as the human mind, the radio contains information. This information, stored in the form of memories in the mind, and the form of cassette tapes in the radio," Hermione sniggered at his example of cassette tapes instead of compact discs, "can be sifted through. With the radio, there are buttons with which you can do this. With the mind, you must use your own mind to sort through that information. Are you following me, Hermione?"

She nodded her head. In truth, it was all becoming a bit confusing, but she thought that she was following along well enough.

"You will need to focus, Hermione. You are not looking at me; you are only maintaining eye contact to allow the information to pass through my mind and into yours. You must not think of the eye contact we will maintain as 'viewing' me. If you do, you shall never succeed in learning this."

She nodded her head again. She believed she knew where he was going with this.

"Now," He started, "I want you to take out your wand." She obliged, and he continued. "Place your gaze on mine, Hermione, and concentrate. I will not rebuke you. I want you to use your eyes as a link to my mind. Whenever you are ready, you may begin."

She stared at him for a good five minutes before he finally tore his gaze away. She had seen nothing. She had felt nothing. She wasn't even sure what she should have felt, but she knew that her endeavors had not worked. 

"We are going to keep doing this until you are able to at least delve into my mind." He stated plainly. "Now, try again."

And try she did. She tried for nearly three hours until her neck and back ached, and her mouth was parched dry. Just as she was thinking that she would never make any progress, it happened. 

She pushed her gaze into his and reached for his mind with her own. She felt a tingling sensation from somewhere in the center of her brain, instantly followed by blackness. Slowly, gently, the memories began to come to her. She was still unable to sift through them as she was sure that he would be able to with no effort whatsoever, but they came to her anyways, in the muddled mess that they were in.

She related the experience to walking down a long, dark hallway, while giant movie-theater sized screens filled with picture shows of Snape's memories floated towards her, then by her, as she walked.

The first was fuzzy and gray, and she couldn't make out any of it. The second was quite similar, but a little lighter than the first. Gradually, the videos of memories became increasingly clearer:

_Snape, yelling at Harry, pointing to the door of his classroom, apparently telling him to leave, though she could hear no sound…_

Snape, sitting at the head table in the great hall, listening to Minerva tell him something, all the time holding a bored look on his face, though she could still not hear what anyone was saying…

Snape, giving a speech to first-year students… wait… now she was beginning to hear the memories as well… stopper death… brew glory… it was his first-day speech… and she was in the front row…

Now the memories randomized a bit. He was much younger in the next one, an apparent student at Hogwarts. She watched as he unfolded a parchment that contained a prefect's badge. She took a brief moment to store that little piece of information away, then continued gazing at the memories.

The sound of the memories was still quite soft. She could barely hear him deducting points from Hufflepuff as he herded two students that she didn't recognize out of the rose bushes behind the castle. She suppressed an inner snigger at the disheveled look of the students' clothing.

The memories continued to flow freely toward and past her, until she realized what was happening. He was choosing these memories for her, and sending them to her of his own free will. She wondered if she possessed the ability to take the ones of her own choosing.

As a memory of him as a young boy, making his wooden alphabet blocks float in mid-air without a wand, glided by her, she tried to bring the memory towards her. She knew that there had to be a way to harness each individual memory and examine it closely, but she had no idea where to begin.

The next memory to pass her by was a very recent one.

She could see approximately one hundred Death Eaters in a circle, and concentrated hard on making the memory pause. The memory stopped floating by her and came to a halt in front of her eyes.

The Death Eaters appeared to be in an uproar. There was one Death Eater in the middle of the circle who was huddled over on his side on the ground. A tall, hooded Death Eater with a muscular frame that could be seen through his robes stood over the crippled man, pointing his wand at him and shouting phrases at the man that Hermione could not quite decipher through the surrounding noise of his comrades.

Suddenly there was a bright, white flash of light that engulfed the circle. Every last Death Eater dropped back into formation, including the man on the ground, and the light disappeared.

Hermione's stomach jumped and she felt a large knot form in her throat as she watched Lord Voldemort enter the circle between two of the shorter Death Eaters who had bowed to their master's side in order to make room for his entrance.

Lord Voldemort gave a long, important looking speech which Hermione could make out very little of. She distinctly heard the words "offspring of a beast" and "failure" used repeatedly during the spiel. After several minutes of Voldemort's tirade, the horrible man stopped. He pointed to a figure in the surrounding crowd and beckoned the man forward with only a small movement from his index finger. 

The man moved to the center of the circle and kneeled before his master, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. Voldemort kicked the man hard in the face and laughed out loud as his victim fell forcefully backwards onto the dirt. The surrounding Death Eaters laughed with their lord and snickered at the man who still had yet to move from his prone position on the dirt.

Voldemort said something else and the man on the ground rose to his feet and faced his master through his Death Eater mask. Voldemort removed his wand from the sleeve of his robe and uttered a spell that Hermione knew, despite the fact that she did not hear him say it.

The other man stiffened and fell backwards onto the ground. Voldemort once again pointed his wand at the Death Eater and the man began to shake violently, much to the amusement of the observing Death Eater cronies.

Several minutes passed before anything else happened. After apparently deciding that the display was now boring him, Voldemort waved his wand at the suffering man and the shaking stopped abruptly.

The memory seemed to magnify itself in Hermione's line of vision as she watched Voldemort approach the man. He bent down in front of the Death Eater until his eyes were only inches from the other man's mask. Voldemort's face grew closer and closer in Hermione's mind until all she could see were his cold, red eyes and his disgustingly reptilian mouth. She looked on in horror, wondering if she would be able to hear what Voldemort was about to whisper to the man he had just tortured so nonchalantly. 

"Get up, Severus." Hermione heard Lord Voldemort say clearly.

Hermione gasped and immediately lost her concentration. Her link was broken and she fell from Snape's mind, finding it hard to breathe regularly after what she had just seen and heard.

She looked up to find that Snape was not looking at her. He was staring off to his left, apparently finding interest in something on the other side of the room.

She didn't know what to say. She was sure that she should have felt pity, or sorrow, or even compassion for the man sitting across from her. However, at that particular moment, all Hermione could feel was hatred toward the man that had tortured him. How dare he? How _DARE_ he? Just what the hell was Voldemort playing at? Torturing his own followers for absolutely nothing?

She was seething with anger. What about the rest of the Death Eaters? They were actually amused at Snape's misfortune. She had always known that Death Eaters were horrible, nasty pieces of work, but after viewing that last memory, she realized that they were just plain sick!

She continued to look at Snape, his face unchanging, wondering what was going through his mind, when she simply could not hold in her feelings any longer. 

"Sick fucking bastard!" She spat out, stewing in her own rage.

His head whipped around and he stared at her, eyes wide, eyebrows both raised, for several seconds. Just as she was starting to regret her open reaction, he threw his head back and barked out a deep, amused laugh. She looked on at him, confused and a little worried at his reaction.

Eventually, Snape stopped laughing, lowered his head, and looked at Hermione with a grin. "Yes. Yes he is." He said plainly. Hermione gave him a relieved smile and shook her head in apology for her outburst.

"Now, Hermione, I believe we both have some brewing to catch up on, and it would be best to give your mind a rest for the remainder of the day. Would you like to continue our efforts tomorrow?" He asked.

She merely smiled at him.

He furrowed his brow. "Of course, I understand if you have plans for the weekend. We could always-"

"No!" She nearly shouted, then blushed as she lowered her tone of voice. "No, I don't have any plans for the weekend… In fact, it would be absolutely wonderful if you would be willing to spend some of yours working with me."

He smiled back. "If you wish, Hermione…"


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Triumph and Woe

Ok, who's shocked to hear from me? Muahaha. I would never... repeat NEVER abandon this fic. I am happy to say that the muses are once again with me, and I will be updating this fic regularly, right until the end. (Which, by the way, is not that far off).

And now, my wonderful, wonderful readers, on with the show!

……….

**Chapter 18: Triumph and Woe**

"Oi! Hermione!" She heard a female voice yelling from the opposite side of her chamber door.

Hermione groaned and rolled over, wishing for the owner of the voice to go away and let her sleep for just _five more minutes_…

"Oi! I know you're in there! Get up, ya lump!"

Hermione pulled off her covers and swung her legs so that they hung over the side of her four-poster. She rubbed the seeds of sleep from her eyes and stood up, slipping into her slippers and dressing robe. She made her way out of her bedroom and across her living room to the door, sighing deeply as she opened it.

"Hello Tonks. It's a bit early, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"Wotcher, Hermione! Yep. The early bird catches the squirrel!" Tonks replied.

"It's the early bird catches the worm, actually." Hermione replied.

"Huh?" Tonks asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Never mind." Hermione replied, leading Tonks across the living room and back into the bedroom. She took a seat on the corner of her bed and watched as Tonks conjured a stool for herself and sat gingerly upon it. "So what's up, Tonks?"

"Order meeting." Tonks said absently, gnawing on her right thumb nail with her two front teeth. "Big business. Something's up."

Hermione watched in disgust as Tonks finally freed the frayed fingernail and spat it out onto the floor in front of her newly-conjured stool.

"You ok?" Tonks asked as Hermione tried to hide the repulsion that, by the way Tonks was looking at her, was more than evident on her face.

"Yeah, fine…" Hermione replied. "Do you have any idea what the meeting is about?"

"Nope. But Harry and Ginny are both coming back for it, so it's gotta be big."

Hermione's stomach gave a little jump as she realized that she knew what the meeting was going to be about. She wondered if Severus had asked for the meeting himself, or if Minerva had somehow convinced him to share his information about the attack with the Order. As of the night before, Severus had seemed extremely reluctant to discuss the impending invasion at all, let alone with the Order of the Phoenix.

"When is the meeting, then?" Hermione asked.

"Fifteen minutes." Tonks said casually, now working fervently on her other thumbnail.

"Fifteen minutes!" Hermione exclaimed. "Tonks! I don't even have time to take a shower! Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"Thought you'd want ter sleep." Tonks replied, the second thumbnail now wedged awkwardly between her veneers.

Hermione let out a loud sigh and made her way to her wardrobe. She extracted a violet colored sweater and a pair of muggle jeans, along with a pair of white Nike sneakers. She pulled on the clothing, followed by her deep purple robes, and pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail.

"Minerva's office, then?" Hermione asked.

"To start." Tonks replied, now admiring her newly-trimmed fingernails in a feminine fashion. "S'at Grimmauld Place."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Why Grimmauld Place? What's wrong with Minerva's office?"

"S'too small." Tonks answered. "Can't fit that many people in there. S'a lot o' people in the Order of the Phoenix."

"The _entire_ Order is going to be there?" Hermione squawked.

"Yep." Tonks replied. "Come on, let's go! We'll be late!"

Hermione followed Tonks down the many corridors that led to McGonagall's office. She was nervous about this meeting. Severus did not seem at all inclined to share his information about Voldemort's planned attack with all members of the Order. To be honest, he didn't seem to trust most of the Order well enough to share information of even half as much importance as the attack with them. She wondered why he had agreed to such a meeting, and if he had even been given a choice. Perhaps McGonagall had used his wand oath against him in some manner. She would have to make it a point to ask Severus once the meeting was over with…

She and Tonks arrived at McGonagall's office at the same time as Viktor. She gave him a wane smile and got a full, toothy grin in return. She hated running into him like this… it was almost as if he was always waiting for her.

"Tonks, Hermimonee, lovely doo see you. Ladies first, I theenk." Viktor said.

"Thanks, Vik." Tonks replied, and Hermione smiled.

Tonks went first, grabbing a pinch of floo powder from McGonagall's mantle and throwing it in the fire. "Twelve Grimmauld Place!" Tonks cried, and in a whoosh of green flames, she was gone.

"You next, Hermimonee." Viktor said, holding the bowl out to her.

Hermione looked up at Viktor and noticed something different about him. Viktor was a trained athlete. He was used to physical exertion and his body had adapted accordingly. Viktor didn't sweat. Only, right now, Viktor was sweating profusely.

"Are you all right, Viktor?" Hermione asked in a concerned voice.

"I'm vine!" Viktor replied, a little louder than she was used to hearing from him. 

"Er… ok." Hermione replied. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something wasn't exactly right. Viktor was practically pushing her through the floo connection, and seemed nervous to even be in her presence. "Why don't you go first, Viktor? I wanted to wait for Severus anyways…"

"Snapehasalreadygonethrough" Viktor replied in a rush.

"I didn't see him leave this morning…" Hermione answered.

"That is because I have not left yet." Came Snape's voice from the doorway. "Perhaps I have a stunt double that I have yet to discover?" He quipped, staring daggers at Viktor.

"I, er, must haf been misdaken…" Viktor stumbled.

"It would appear that way." Snape answered. "Now, Miss Granger apparently has something she wishes to discuss with me. We will follow you through shortly, Mr. Krum." Snape said, leaving no room for argument.

Viktor gave Snape a curt nod and, ignoring Hermione, stepped into the fireplace and flooed to Grimmauld Place.

Hermione turned to Severus and flashed him a cocky smirk. "If you wanted to be alone with me, Severus, you could have just said so…"

Apparently Snape was in no mood for flirting, because he simply walked over to the fireplace, picked up the jar of floo powder, and held it out for Hermione. Hermione sighed, took a pinch of powder, and stepped into the fireplace. 

"Twelve Grimmauld Place!" She stated clearly, and after spinning through a whirl of green flames, she found herself standing in the open fireplace of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Snape followed her seconds afterwards, and the two of them made their way into the dining room where the rest of the Order was waiting for them. Several of the other members of the Order met her entrance with awkward glances. She was slightly confused at their looks until she realized that was still maintaining her glamour.

"Oh!" She said with a smile, and removed her glamour immediately.

"Hermi'nee!" Hagrid exclaimed happily as he rose from the table to greet her, nearly knocking McGonagall off of her chair in the process.

After several hugs and a few hearty handshakes, Hermione took a seat between Fred and George, and waited for the meeting to begin. Several minutes later, Harry and Ginny entered the room and took the chairs across from her. She rose from her seat and gave each of her friends a hug, then reclaimed her place across from them.

She looked long and hard at Harry, who was looking quite different than she was normally used to seeing him. He had dark, pronounced circles under each of his eyes, which were dry and bloodshot themselves. His hair, though normally shabby and unkempt, was now completely unruly. He looked like he hadn't had it cut in weeks. Dark stubble graced his normally smooth face. While not quite a beard, he had certainly not shaved at all in the past few days. He was dressed in only a muggle sweater and a pair of muggle jeans, and both looked they could use a good cleansing charm. What on earth had he been up to?

Ginny was not much better for the wear. While not quite as ragged-looking as Harry, her normally perfect hair had lost most of its shine. She had it pulled back in a loose, messy ponytail and her gray sweatshirt and muggle jeans could have used a cleansing charm themselves. Hermione tried to push her concern for her friends aside, but could not help but worry for their condition.

Interrupting her thoughts, McGonagall rose from her seat and raised her hand in a request for silence. "Good morning, everyone. I am sorry to interrupt all of your weekends, and at such short notice at that, but I felt that this meeting warranted the attendance of _all_ of the members of the Order."

Hermione surveyed the room. Some of the Order members seemed excited at the news, and some of them looked nervous. She glanced at Severus, who merely looked away from her and stared blankly at his folded hands that rested on the tabletop in front of him. Harry was staring blankly at McGonagall, and Ginny seemed to be avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"As you all know," McGonagall continued, "the Order has been working on several projects to assure our victory against You-Know-Who and his followers. This war is several years in the making, and it appears that the end may be much nearer than we had originally believed."

The Order members around her looked uneasy, but McGonagall flashed them all a huge, triumphant-looking smile. Hermione could not believe what she was seeing. What was there to be happy about? Lord Voldemort was planning an attack on Hogwarts and its students… surely she shouldn't be smiling at a time like this?

"Intelligence informs us that You-Know-Who is trying to procure a weapon of massive ferocity. Though we can not say for sure what it is, we have a fairly good idea as to what he may be trying to accomplish." McGonagall stated.

"And zees eez _good_ news?" Fleur asked incredulously.

"I will thank you not to interrupt me until I am finished, Miss DeLacour. I assure you that you will be allowed to ask any questions that you may have, _after_ I have finished speaking." McGonagall answered. 

Fleur looked extremely disgruntled at the unusual event of being put in her place, but complied with McGonagall's request nonetheless.

"Now, as I was saying…" McGonagall continued with a pointed glance at Fleur. "You-Know-Who has been completely involved with his new project for at least the last week-or-so. He has shown no progress in his endeavors, but neither has he slowed his efforts. By chance, and, admittedly, sheer dumb luck, we, ourselves, have made many advances recently. I am happy to inform you that Harry Potter has been able to discover the locations of six out of the seven horcruxes!"

There was a huge outburst of applause and praise as half of the Order members rose from their places at the long table to congratulate Harry on his unexpected feat. Hermione kept her seated position and took the opportunity to glance around the table. Most of the Order had risen to congratulate Harry, but some of the members had remained seated. Ron was busy discussing the phenomenon with Katie, both of them still in their seats, and Hermione took his actions as a sign that he had known in advance what would be said at the meeting. Luna was gazing dreamily at the ceiling… no shock there. Viktor was still seated, though watching the crowd around Harry. He seemed less anxious than he had in McGonagall's office, though his demeanor still did not seem quite right…

Hermione turned to Snape and, as she did so, her breath caught in her throat. He was staring directly at her, and seemed to be drinking her in with his eyes. His gaze pierced hers, and she found it difficult to breathe while caught in his penetrating stare. He did not appear angry, nor did he seem uneasy. He seemed simply to want to look at her and have a personal connection with her while the cheers and congratulations made their way around the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Alright, you lot! Let's hear what else Minerva's got to say!" Tonks' voice rang out.

Slowly, everyone took their seats except for McGonagall, who continued to speak to the Order.

"Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still have a long way to go. Right now, we need to decide an immediate course of action. Obviously, Harry will continue to search for the remaining horcrux… Miss Weasley, I'm assuming you will be accompanying him on his search?" Ginny nodded. "Splendid. Now, we have matters to attend to. Though there has been no such threat as of yet, there is always the chance that You-Know-Who will launch an attack on the school. We must be prepared for such a situation. Messieurs Weasley, would you be willing to spend some time at Hogwarts setting up alarmed wards?"

"Of course-" Fred began.  
"we will!-" George finished.

"I've been working with Fred and George." Ron chimed in. "I could stay at Hogwarts for a bit and help with the wards."

"Excellent!" McGonagall said and clasped her hands together in an appreciative gesture. "Severus, Hermione, you will be remaining at Hogwarts until such a time that it is safe for you to do otherwise. Tonks, you will be remaining at Hogwarts as well. Harry, Ginny, I would like to set up a room for each of you at the castle. I realize that you will be on the road for the majority of your time residing there, but I would like you to make a base of the castle nonetheless."

McGonagall glanced around the room as if checking to see if she missed anyone, then stalled her eyes on Viktor. "Viktor, I realize that you would much prefer to keep your residency at Durmstrang, but I'm afraid that having you out of the castle during a time of potential need is simply impractical. I would like you to remain at Hogwarts full-time, at least for the time-being."

Viktor looked uneasy, and, for a moment, Hermione thought that he was going to refuse the order. However, moments later, Viktor gave a curt nod of acceptance in McGonagall's direction, and the elder witch continued. 

"Wonderful! Everything is settled, then. You may all disperse to your posts. Those of you who will be joining us at Hogwarts, please return to your respective residences tonight and gather everything that you will need. I do not wish to have anyone flooing in or out of the castle after this evening if it is unnecessary. Severus, Remus, Viktor and Harry, if you would be so kind as to remain behind after the others have left…"

Hermione gave a questioning glance in Severus' direction. He gave her an _I'll-tell-you-later_ sort of look, and she took it as a direction to leave with the others.

Hermione rose from her seat and gave Ron a friendly hug. She glanced over Ron's shoulder to see Viktor give both she and Ron a sharp look. Hermione felt herself grow angry. What the hell was Viktor's problem, anyways? Not only was he jealous of any contact Hermione made with a person of the opposite sex, he was becoming snarky towards her as well. Something was very wrong with Viktor, and she made a mental note to find out exactly what that was.

Hermione stalled behind until all other members of the Order, save for those who were asked to stay, had left Grimmauld Place. She had hoped to hear bits and pieces of the conversation still taking place in the kitchen, but she was unsuccessful in her endeavors. By the time Hermione stepped through the fireplace and into her rooms at Hogwarts, the kitchen door had been shut and sealed against any outsider's ears.

Once back at Hogwarts, Hermione took up her usual position in her sitting room. She opened the legillimency book that Snape had given her and read through it for the second time that week. Several hours passed with still no sign of Snape. She felt her eyelids grow heavy throughout the course of the day, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

_She was walking down a long hallway. She could see shadowboxes moving and twisting all around her. She reached out to one of them with her right hand and found that she could physically touch the box that seemed so imaginary in her mind. She pulled it towards herself and watched as the memory within the box played out before her very eyes. _

The young man in the box, obviously a much younger Severus Snape, was brewing a potion in an oversized teal cauldron. Suddenly he was surrounded by figures in black cloaks. They dragged him, screaming, by the arms, away from his cauldron and into the darkness. He didn't want to go with them, but it seems he had no choice. He was calling to her for help. He needed her to-

"Hermione. You're having a nightmare. Hermione. Wake up."

Hermione lifted her head to see Severus standing over her, gently shaking her arm.

"I'm sorry… I must have fallen asleep while I was reading…" She answered groggily. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings and get her bearings, but once she had, she realized that her dream had provided her with crucial information.

"Severus! I think I understand how it works now!" She yelled suddenly as she sprang up from her chair.

Severus gave her a confused look and waited for her to elaborate. She sighed deeply before continuing. "Legillimency! I understand how it works now!"

"You do…" Severus answered skeptically.

"Yes." She replied confidently.

Severus' look of disbelief quickly changed to one of hope. "Show me." He said plainly, before grabbing her by the wrist and leading her across the laboratory and into his quarters. He sat her down on one of his chairs and took his customary place across from her.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

She gave a curt nod and folded her hands neatly in her lap. He gave his usual countdown before allowing her entrance into his mind. At first, the experiment was the same as it had been the last time they attempted it. As the minutes wore on, however, things started to change.

As she watched the memories pass her by like silent movie screens as they had before, she felt a confidence in herself that was foreign to her. An image of a very young Severus Snape floated toward her, and she willed it to herself with her mind.

She examined a memory of a twenty-something Severus Snape for several seconds before releasing it and allowing it to continue past her. As she stood in the floating hallway of Snape's past, she picked and chose very carefully which memories she would spend her time reviewing.

She wanted to test her suspicions on a powerful memory. She needed something from Snape's childhood. The memory had to be powerful enough that it had held its strength over the years, and possibly even decades. As memory after memory of Snape's adulthood floated by, she began to give up hope of finding such an object. Just as she was about to settle for a lesser memory, she saw it.

A memory of a child, obviously no more than four or five years of age, floated into her line of inner vision. She reached toward the memory immediately and watched on as a figure of a no more than five year old Snape played alone in a darkened room. She manipulated the memory with her mind, willing the child in his past to face her.

The child didn't look at her, but looked up at the ceiling. It was in that moment that she saw the swollen, blackened left eye that the child bore. She pressed on, willing the memory of how the eye came to be that way to come to her. Gradually, her efforts were rewarded.

Immediately the old scene of the boy playing with his wooden blocks drifted away to be replaced by a different memory. A tall, lanky man with a horribly angry look in his eyes was towering over the young child. She could hear the man's screams of anger as he berated the boy. The boy cowered before the much taller man and, suddenly, something happened that had not happened with any of the other memories. She could feel this one. She could feel every emotion that the young boy had had at that moment in his life: fear, confusion, nausea - as the older man continued to bellow at him.

Suddenly she felt physically ill and the image of the boy in her mind threw up all over the older man's shoes. Now the only dominant emotion was fear. The boy attempted to back away, but the older man simply advanced and picked the child up by the scruff of his neck.

Faintly, she heard a voice in her mind that had nothing to do with the memory she was viewing. "Out." The voice said calmly. She resolutely ignored it, and continued to watch the memory play on.

The boy was dangling in the air in front of the older man, and with a sudden burst of anger, the older man threw the boy bodily against the wall behind him. She felt the boy's pain as his head smacked against the cream colored wall, and felt his rear hit the carpet as he slid down the barrier to the floor.

"Out." She heard again, this time more loudly than the first. Again, she ignored it.

The boy sat there, terrified, as the older man advanced upon him. She saw the older man raise his arm back with the apparent intention of striking the child. 

"Out!" She heard again. This time the voice sounded like a bellow, but she pressed on.

Pressing the memory on, she witnessed a sight that horrified her. The man brought his right arm back as far as it would go, then hit the boy square in the face, fist clenched tightly. She saw the boy's mind turn to blackness as he passed out, and, at the same time, heard the last shout.

"OUT!" 

Suddenly the memory was gone. She felt a sharp pain in the center of her skull as she was wrenched from the scene that she had been viewing. The hallway had disappeared, and she was back sitting in her chair, looking into the very real, very agitated face of Severus Snape seated across from her.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

He held up a hand to interrupt her. "There is no need, Hermione. You progressed much farther than I ever dreamed you could have so soon into your lessons. You were able not only to enter my memories, but to sort through them as well. Your efforts were impressive."

"I'm sorry." She said, lowering her head to stare at her lap.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, neither one speaking or looking at one another. Eventually, she broke the silence.

"Why didn't you just shove me out the first time?" She asked, looking up at him.

He met her gaze. "I wanted to see how far you could go. I did not throw you from my mind until I found it completely necessary. I asked you to leave before doing so because, as I am sure you noticed, it hurts to actually be ejected from another's mind."

"Yes," she continued, "but that was a very private memory. You didn't have to-"

"I trust you." He told her simply.

A strange feeling manifested itself deep within her chest. The emotion was somewhat foreign to her, but she recognized it nonetheless. That feeling was affection. The tears began to well up in her eyes, and in one, swift, panther-like movement, she found herself seated in his lap, legs off to one side, cupping his face in her hands.

He stiffened visibly as she tilted his face up toward her and wrapped her free hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. She leaned forward and captured his mouth in hers, forcefully kissing him into submission. She felt his hand drift up to her back and pull her closer, deepening the kiss.

She craved him. She needed him. It was all she could think of, to bring herself as close to his body as she could get. I trust you…the words rang over and over again in her mind as she felt her lips parting slightly, prompting his to mirror her actions. She caressed her tongue along his bottom lip and heard a deep groan from within his throat. She pressed on, parting his lips even more with her tongue, gently exploring the entryway to his mouth. She was slightly surprised when he did the same, delving into her mouth and at the same time pulling her so close against his body that she had to gasp for breath.

"Hermione…" He whispered.

"Shhh…" She responded.

She extracted herself from his lap and stood, holding her hand out for him to take it. He looked questioningly at her, but took it, and allowed her to guide him to his feet. She smiled at him, a million thoughts whirling through her head.

The man standing before her…the man that she at one time couldn't stand to be in the presence of, was now all that she could think about. His very touch sent a fire through her veins, causing her to feel emotions that she had never felt before. She felt herself wanting to be as near to him as possible, to encase her soul within his own.

Severus Snape had risked his life for her, and for those dearest to her, on more occasions than she could count. He had spent half of his life as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, the only cause devoted to bringing down the dark terror that was Lord Voldemort. With every day he lived, with every choice he made, he fought for freedom… for them… for her.

He had made the ultimate sacrifice - taking the life of possibly the only friend he had ever known, in order to save the wizarding world from a mad man's tyranny. The thought alone made her shiver.

There was so much more to her former Potion's Professor than she could have ever dreamed during her time as a student at the infamous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had always kept a stern, uninterpretable face, all to hide the façade that was his role as a member of the Order.

Now that she knew him for the man that he truly was, she realized that there was more to Severus than his position as a Potion's Master and his role as a spy. The man now standing before her was capable of so much more than he had become. He had been forced to hide away his emotions and aspirations, all because of a life-changing mistake that he had made as a teenager. She suddenly felt a new wave or respect for him, far greater than she had ever known in her youth.

She led him by the hand, through his sitting room, and stopped abruptly at his bedroom door. He looked at her with an uncertainty on his face, seemingly unsure as to how to interpret her gesture.

"I want to be with you, Severus." She told him softly, keeping her hand entwined in his.

"Why?" Was his hoarse, whispered response.

She looked into his deep, soulful eyes, and felt a tinge of sorrow at the course in life that had brought the man before her to expect so little for himself. He couldn't even bring himself to believe that someone would want him in a way other than as a useful pawn in the game of his life.

She took a step towards him, bringing his hand to her lips, and placed a chaste kiss on the palm of his hand.

"Because I care about you." She answered him.

He stood there for several moments, and, with each passing second, her confidence waned. Maybe she had interpreted his signals all wrong. After all, she had very little, if any, experience in the world of dating. Perhaps he wasn't attracted to her? Perhaps all those occasions during which their lips had met in what she believed to be passion were simply his way of kindly returning her affections in an effort to still spare her feelings. She suddenly felt very awkward.

"I'm sorry." She told him, looking down at their feet between them.

She felt like a total idiot. He didn't want her. He had been humoring her, on all of the previous occasions that she had come to think of as signs of his desire for her. She had made a complete fool of herself, presuming to lead him to his own bedroom in hopes of furthering their physical and emotional relationship.

She turned to walk away, and he grabbed her arm sharply.

"Please…" He whispered to her. "Hermione. Do not leave…"

She turned her hesitant gaze to his eyes and noticed the look of remorse in his own as he studied the tears that threatened to leak from beneath her suddenly heavy lids. She was unsure of what he wanted with her now. His signals were so mixed that her stomach was tied up in knots. 

"Severus… I don't know what you want from me…" She whispered, looking deep into his obsidian orbs, hoping beyond hope that she would be able to keep her tears at bay for a moment longer. 

"What do you want, Hermione?" He asked her, lifting a finger to her chin and tilting her head up so that she was trapped in his deep gaze. "What do you really want?"

She studied him for a moment. She knew what she wanted, but could she bring herself to tell him that? She thought back to all the moments that they had shared over the past few months. She remembered all of the times that he had saved her, and all of the times he had comforted her. Was that why she wanted him? Because he was her hero? Her protector? Her source of comfort when all other sources were nowhere to be found?

She thought about that question for a moment. No, that was not why she wanted him. She wanted him because he was… well… himself. She respected him for his mind and for his dedication. She liked to be close to him because he was as stubborn and intense about his studies and work as she was about her own. They could spend an entire evening in companionable silence, and, at the end of it, she would emerge from his rooms more content than she had been in years. 

She wanted him, not for what he had done _for_ her, but for who he was _to_ her.

"I want you. I want as much of you as you are willing to give me." She told him bluntly, staring straight into his eyes, daring him to question her.

Severus sighed and lifted Hermione's hand to his mouth to place a soft kiss on her palm. "We are at the peak of a very dangerous era, Hermione." He told her. "I cannot allow myself to put your life in any more danger than it is already in. I believe you already know this…"

She lowered her head slightly, allowing a few lone tears to spill over her cheeks. He was right, of course. _Again_. She thought about all he had just said. She thought about his work for the order... Her work for the order… _Their_ work for the order. Then, suddenly, she didn't care about the danger. She didn't care about the fact that one miniscule mistake, one unhidden memory, could unmask the Order's entire operation. After all, they had allowed her to be held captive by their enemy for over a year. They had allowed Severus to risk his life spying for them, day after day, year after year, decade after decade, with no concern whatsoever about his personal life or mental and physical well-being. Why shouldn't they allow themselves a few moments of happiness in a world that was seemingly devoid of it?

"I don't care." She said suddenly, lifting her chin boldly towards him.

"Excuse me?" He asked, obviously bewildered by her statement.

"I – don't – care." She repeated.

He looked at her questioningly and she obliged him by elaborating. "I don't care, Severus. I don't care if our lives are in any more danger than they already are. Look at us. We are holed up in this castle twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We aren't even allowed to look like ourselves, for Merlin's sake!" Severus just stared at her with a shocked expression on his face as she continued her tirade. "Severus, I don't care about the danger anymore. To be honest… I don't really care about anything anymore. Except for you…."

She looked into his eyes, hoping to receive the response she was looking for. How could she make him see that they both deserved this? Was he daft? Did he not know how she felt about him? How she wanted him? How the two of them deserved just a little joy before the end…

"I enjoy your company, Hermione, but a relationship at this point is simply too risky. Perhaps after the war is-"

"FUCK THE WAR!" She shouted at him with arms flailing madly, causing his eyes to widen in shock. "Don't tell me that you don't care about me, Severus! I know that you do! And I care about you! You need to realize that we deserve this… that we both deserve this! Forget the Order! They don't even-"

"That – is – ENOUGH!" He yelled at her, grabbing her by both wrists. "You will stop this _right now_, do you understand me?"

She glared angrily at him and attempted to free her wrists from his grasp, but he kept a tight hold on her.

"Do you understand me?" He repeated.

"You're just scared." She said tauntingly. "You are afraid of your own feelings. You are afraid of being caught by the Order… by _him_… by anyone, really. Isn't that true, Severus?"

Snape continued to glare icily at her. He kept a tight hold on her wrists, but did not answer her questions. 

"I believe that I have hit the proverbial nail right on the head there, haven't I, Severus?" She said nastily. "You can't act on any of your feelings because you are nothing but a bloody cowar-"

"ENOUGH!" He shouted, tugging on her wrists and releasing them roughly, only to replace his hands on her shoulders. He shook her roughly as he spoke, "You will stop your incessant daydreaming and behave as an Order member should! I will not tolerate your insolence. You are an adult now, and we are _at war_. Stop acting like a petulant child! There will be nothing between us. Do you understand me?"

"Severus, you're hurting-"

He shook her again. "Do – you – understand – me… _Miss Granger_?" He asked again.

The use of her given name had done the trick. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she shook her affirmation to him. He turned her around roughly by the shoulders and marched her out of his chambers and into their joint Potions Laboratory. When he stopped walking, she turned around quickly, hoping that he would see he was making a horrible mistake. 

"Severus... please don't do this..." She pleaded. 

"Goodnight, Miss Granger."

It was an order, not a question. Hermione felt like her heart had broken in two. She could barely manage to put on the semi-brave face that she did. She stared into his eyes, resolute expression still fixed firmly on her face. He didn't even spare her a second look. He entered his outer chambers and shut the door behind him.

The moment she heard his wards go up she collapsed on the floor in a desolate, sobbing heap. The last sound she heard from him was the opening of his bedroom entry. He closed the door after him, leaving behind a heartbroken Hermione.

…….

……..

……..

Author's Notes:

Ok, so, how many of you are now saying:  
What a jerk! I can't believe she took TWO MONTHS to update, and then left us with THAT ending? I'm so sorry... You know, I really felt bad about leaving you all with that, but it's the way I had always planned it to be... you will see why in the next chapter... I promise you, it had to be that way. Want the next chapter super quick?

The quicker the feedback, the quicker the postings people! )


	20. Chapter Nineteen: The Defector

_A/N: _

To all my loyal readers:

There is no proper excuse for waiting this long between chapter posts. I can only apologize for the delay preceding this update and vow to post regularly from now on until this fic is finished.

For those of you who are still with me on this, thank you. Your lasting dedication to this story truly warms my heart.

And now for chapter nineteen...

_Warning: Mature Reading. _

It is my recommendation—if you have been with this story for a while—that you reread at least chapter eighteen. Some of the events from previous chapters will be very important in this one. Once more, thank you all so, so much for your patience and dedication to this story.

Three days had passed, and still, no word from Severus. McGonagall had informed her that he was off on Order business, and she wondered if he had volunteered for the job as a means of escaping her presence.

"Hermione?" A soft voice called to her from the Floo. "Hermione, are you there?"

She placed her crimson bookmark against the spine of the tome she had been reading and shut it a bit more harshly than was absolutely necessary. She was in no mood for visitors.

As she made her way over to her bedroom fireplace, she was able to see that the voice calling to her belonged to Ginny.

"Sorry to bother you," Ginny said quickly, "but McGonagall is looking for you. She says it's important."

"All right. Tell her I'll be right up."

She threw on a pair of black mary jane's and began making her way toward the Headmistress' office, opting to take the stairs instead of the Floo. She could do with a walk, anyway.

"Bubble Gum," she said as she approached the stone gargoyle.

The inert beast leaped obediently out of the way, and Hermione began her slow, spiraled ascent to Minerva's office.

"Hermione, dear," the older woman said softly as she entered the room. "Have a seat, won't you?"

She obliged, though there was no point in getting comfortable. She didn't plan on staying long.

"Hermione, I've noticed a change in you these past few days, and I wonder…" she paused. "I wonder if it has something to do with Professor Snape's departure."

Hermione didn't react—she didn't care anymore.

"I have no idea what you mean, Minerva."

She raised her eyes to meet those of her former Professor's and was surprised to see a touch of sorrow in them.

"Hermione," Minerva continued, "Professor Snape has asked me to give you something. He said it would be all right to open it in my presence, if you so wish, but I will understand if you would rather do so in private. Here…"

Minerva moved behind her desk and extracted a small package with an attached envelope. She handed it to Hermione with an expectant look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," Hermione said, rising from her seat, "but I would really rather open this in private. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, dear," Minerva answered kindly, though Hermione could detect the sound of disappointment in her voice.

"Do you mind if I use your Floo?"

Minerva smiled. "Of course not."

Making her way through the Floo and back to her rooms, Hermione nervously fingered the petite package in her hands. Why couldn't Severus have given this to her in person? Did he despise her _that much_, that he couldn't even stand to be alone with her?

At any rate, the package couldn't be _too_ important. He _had_ said that she could have opened it in front of Minerva, if she had so wished.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and laid the package down next to her, opting to open the envelope first. It was, not surprisingly, a note from Severus:

_Hermione- _

This was my mother's. It would have meant a great deal to her to have you wear it.

Please forgive me.

-Severus 

She sat staring at the letter for what seemed like an eternity.

_'Please forgive me'_…

What the hell was that supposed to mean? What exactly was he sorry for? Was he apologizing for what he'd said to her the last time they'd met? Did he wish to take it all back, or was he simply sorry that he had caused her pain by telling her the truth?

_Infuriating man_…

She glanced over at the unwrapped package lying on the bed beside her. It was now or never, she supposed…

Peeling back the layer of plain brown parchment that covered the contents of the package, she imagined what could possibly lie beneath.

_'This was my mother's'_…

Well, the package wasn't long enough to be a wand. A quill, perhaps?

No. He had written in his note that the gift was to be worn. She took a deep breath and opened the box.

Inside laid, quite possibly, one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry she had ever seen. The ornate necklace was made of what looked to be antiqued white gold with a butterfly clasp. The pendant did not hang on the chain, but was welded to it on either side. A beautiful princess-cut emerald sat in the middle of the circle. The craftsmanship was such that she had never before seen. The gem appeared to be floating above the metal, independent of its base.

It was breathtaking.

She looked the pendant over carefully, noting the initials, 'E.P.' carved into the back of the setting. "Eileen Prince…"

She smiled and unhinged the clasp, bringing it around her neck and fastening it from the back.

"Ouch!"

The setting had pinched the skin on her collarbone. She could feel the burning sensation where the gold had dug into her and made to remove the chain, quickly thinking better of it. The necklace was a gift—a very old, very important gift, at that. She may not get the chance to wear it very often, and she wouldn't dare risk wearing it outside the castle, for fear of losing it.

She stood from the bed and made her way over to her body mirror. The necklace _did_ look lovely round her neck, and the emerald seemed to bring out the rosy color of her skin. Yes, she would leave it on—for now, at least.

She made her way back over to the bed and laid down, reopening the book she had begun reading earlier in the day. She idly stroked the book's cover, her thoughts taking her elsewhere. Severus could have been anywhere at the moment. She had no idea what work he was performing for the Order or where his duties had taken him. She couldn't even be sure that he was safe.

"These thoughts won't get you anywhere," she chided herself.

There was no point in dwelling on the activities of a man that cared little, if anything, for her. She hadn't been raised to chase after men who did not wished to be pursued.

She sighed, turning back to her book.

Time passed slowly, and with it, her energy dwindled. She found herself teetering on the thin line between waking and sleep, eventually giving in to the darkness behind her eyes.

"Hermione! Hermione, get up!"

"Wha—"

"There's no time!" she heard Harry yell to her as she opened her eyes. "There are Death Eaters on the grounds. Someone's let them into Hogwarts! We have to leave—_now_!"

Harry grabbed her arm and drug her from the bed, across the room and over to the fireplace.

"Headmistress' office!" he yelled into the hearth, throwing in a handful of Floo powder and pushing Hermione into the green flames.

"Harry!" she yelled as she felt the familiar _whooshing_ sensation of the Floo network.

She landed with a _thud_ in the fireplace of McGonagall's office. The room was buzzing with people—among them, Viktor, Ron and McGonagall herself.

"What's happening?" she asked quickly, grabbing McGonagall round the forearm.

"Death Eaters," McGonagall said uselessly.

"How many? How did they get in?"

"We aren't sure. We have already evacuated the students through to the ministry Floos. The Order has the castle surrounded, but I'm afraid it won't be enough. I believe some of them have already managed to get inside the walls. We won't be sure until Mr. Potter gets back here with the map," McGonagall finished quickly.

"Where are we going?"

"You, young lady," McGonagall said, pointing a finger at Hermione, "aren't going anywhere! You're to stay in this office until we've secured the grounds."

"No!" Hermione yelled, causing most of the people in the room to stop what they were doing and look at her. "I will do _no such thing_! I'm going to fight with the Order!"

"Do not be silly," Viktor said sternly, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her slightly. "They cannot know that you are here! If Lord Voldemort found out−"

"No one goes anywhere alone tonight," McGonagall cut in. "You-Know-Who—"

"Screw Voldemort!" Hermione shouted, shaking Viktor off. "I'm fighting with the rest of you!"

McGonagall gave her a worried look, while Viktor seemed at a loss for words.

"I'll stay with her, Professor," Ron announced. "If there's any trouble, I'll call the others."

Viktor looked frustrated, while McGonagall nodded her head in reluctant submission.

"Hermione," McGonagall said, "this is a terribly dangerous idea. There aren't _that many_ of them here tonight. Your efforts would be better put to use when they are truly needed. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she stated emphatically.

"Very well," McGonagall answered, turning to Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, I'll trust you to use your best judgment tonight. If anything should go wrong—"

"I'll send my Patronus," Ron cut in.

McGonagall nodded. "Let's go."

The small group followed McGonagall out of her office and down into the main foyer. So many thoughts were going through Hermione's head, she was unsure which to think on first.

How on earth did Death Eaters make it onto the grounds without anyone knowing? Where was Severus? Was he aware of the intrusion?

They entered the Great Hall to find Harry and Ginny waiting for them, Marauder's Map in hand.

"All right," McGonagall announced, scanning the map with her eyes. "Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, you take the front gates. Mr. Krum, you stay with me. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, you exit through the back under the one-eyed witch. The rest of the Order are already in place. Hopefully this is just a reconnaissance mission on the part of our enemy." She paused, glancing at each of the persons in front of her with a wane smile. "We meet at the shrieking shack in one hour to regroup. Any trouble, send a Patronus."

Suddenly Hermione's heart was beating with rapidity. Tonight was, for lack of a better word, _real_. She followed Ron through the passageway, allowing her to guide him through to the other side.

"Stop, Ronald," she whispered as they reached the mouth of the path. "We should wait here."

"Ok."

He unsheathed his wand, crouching down beside her.

Time has a habit of standing still when one wishes it to pass quickly. They stood in the outer opening of the passageway for what seemed like hours.

Hermione's heart had slowed to an acceptable pace by now, her senses on full alert. It appeared that Ron was less capable of controlling his emotions than she, as his eyes were continuously darting to and fro around them, his hand already white from the death-grip he was using on his wand.

A rustling from their left caught their attention, and Hermione felt her muscles tense.

"Get ready," she whispered.

Wands held pointedly in front of them, she and Ron exited their enclosure and crept in the direction of the noise. Barely visible, but clearly present, were two masked Death Eaters. The men must have known the grounds well, as they had managed to find the spot that calms the Weeping Willow. Beneath it they stood, whispering. What they were discussing, Hermione could not hear, but she crept toward them, cautiously, nonetheless.

"Stun," Ron breathed in her ear, "on the count of three."

Hermione nodded sharply.

"One… two…"

"_STUPEFY!_"

The effect was instantaneous. The two death eaters slumped over onto their sides, one of the men's head hitting a rock embedded in the earth.

"Brilliant, Ronald!" Hermione said, beaming at him. "Come on, let's tie them up."

She made her way over to the Death Eaters' unconscious bodies, sheathing her wand as she walked. She tore the mask from the first Death Eater.

"Malfoy," she said with distaste, moving to remove the second man's mask. _Surprise, surprise_. "Both of them."

"Well," she continued, taking out her wand and pointing it at the Draco first, "_Encarcerous_. I think we should send a Patronus to the others and let them know about these two. _Encarcerous_." As the bonds around Lucius Malfoy tightened, Hermione turned to her friend.

She gasped.

Viktor had Ron from behind, his wand pointed straight at the redhead's throat.

"Hermione, help," Ron squeaked.

"Shut up!" Viktor shouted at him. "Hermione, come vith me."

"Viktor, no...What are you doing?"

"Come vith me. _Now_."

Hermione could feel her heart pounding beneath her breastbone. She looked uselessly around her, searching for a means of escape.

"Viktor, please," she said as calmly as she could manage. "You don't need to do this. Let him go."

"No," he answered her plainly. "Lower your vand, Hermione."

She registered the dazed look in Ron's eyes and depressed her wand arm. What choice did she have? She tossed it gently to the ground at Ron's feet and watched as Viktor bent to retrieve it.

"Ron, now!"

For once in their lives, she and Ron's thoughts were in sync. He turned with a speed she had never before seen him display and managed to get out a "_Levicorpus!_" before Viktor could raise his wand arm again.

"_Encarcerous!_" Hermione shouted at Viktor's floating body, binding him in mid-air. His still body fell to the ground with an almost sickening thud. Hermione cringed.

"Ron," she cried in relief, throwing her arms around her friend's neck. "It was him! It was Viktor. I can't believe it…"

"You should send a message to the others," he declared. "Let them know it was Viktor who let the Death Eaters in."

She sniffed. "Right."

She lifted her wand from the dirt and spoke softly into its apex, then stated clearly, "_Expecto Patronum_." A shiny white otter leapt from the tip and floated in front of her, awaiting directions.

"Go to Professor McGonagall," she instructed the figure, "and if you can't find her, give the message to Harry Potter."

The otter gave an odd sort of flip with its tail and was gone in an instant.

She turned around to see Ron standing over the two bound Death Eaters.

"_Ennervate_" he said quietly, his wand pointed at Draco, who awoke instantly.

"Ron, no! What are you doing?" Hermione shouted, running towards him.

"_Ennervate_" Ron incanted a second time, his wand now pointed at Lucius.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, halfway to her destination. Something wasn't right.

"Ron, please. Let them alone!"

He released the binds on both men and turned to speak to Hermione. "No. I think not."

"Ron—"

"_Encarcerous!_" the now-freed Draco yelled, his wand pointed at Hermione.

He had taken her by surprise, and she felt invisible bonds tighten around her wrists and ankles. Her thumb was pinned against her palm, and her wand had since clattered to the ground.

"Stupid little Mudblood," Draco spat. "_Brightest witch of our age_, my arse!"

"Now, now, Draco," Lucius cut in, stepping forward so that he was now standing next to his son. "You mustn't tease our little captive… much," he added nastily.

"Ron, please!" Hermione shouted.

"Shut up!" Draco snapped.

Hermione watched as Ron stepped forward, the same dazed look still lingering in his eyes.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "He's Imperio'd."

Draco sneered at her. "Brilliant, aren't you, Granger? Only took you a few _months_ to figure that one out!"

"And now I've just told the others that Viktor was the one who let you onto the grounds," she added at a whisper, horrified.

"Quite true," Lucius replied. "I'm afraid it's Azkaban for our dear Viktor." Lucius made a clucking sound with his tongue.

"Come on," Draco snapped. "Let's finish this. _He_ doesn't give a _fuck_ about her anymore. I say we end this—_now_."

"Yes, yes, Draco, in due time. For now," he said, walking forward so that he was less than a foot from Hermione, "I think we should take our time and have some…_fun_…with our new friend."

Draco smiled maliciously. "Excellent."

"_Protego_," Lucius said quietly, waving his wand above his head in a circular motion. "_Barriamordre_."

Hermione froze—Lucius had just effectively prohibited anyone from coming close enough to help her. She had never heard of that last spell, but by the wording, she was pretty sure that only Death Eaters would be allowed to penetrate the protective barrier that Lucius had erected around them. Ron was slumped up against the Whomping Willow, apparently unconscious. Her eyes widened as she watched Draco step forward and confiscate her wand.

"Pity you're a mudblood," Lucius drawled, running his finger over Hermione's cheek, down her throat and across her collar bone. "Such an enticing figure—we could have had such _fun_ with one another at gatherings…"

His boldness disgusted her, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her shrink away or cry. She did the only thing she could think of—she spat in his face.

He whipped his hand away from her and wiped the spit from his nose. She smirked when she saw she had managed to get some of it in his eye.

"You filthy little whore!" he spat.

He lifted his arm quickly and backhanded her hard and fast across the face. Stepping quickly backward, he aligned himself with Draco. She gazed with terror into the fire that was burning behind Lucius' eyes.

A million thoughts raced through her head as she contemplated the image of her own death.

"Harry…Severus…Somebody help me…_please_…"

Her pleas were whispered in desperation, her breathing low and ragged. She watched in horror as both men raised their wands toward her simultaneously, each of them breathing out a string of words that she couldn't quite decipher at her distance from them.

She felt a ring of fire form around her neck, hot enough to burn her. The sensation deepened, and she could swear her skin was beginning to blister. The two men were whispering to one another at a volume too low for her to hear. When she could take the pain no longer, she finally cried out.

"Please! Please, stop it—it hurts!" she begged.

Draco smiled and turned to the right, glancing at his father. Lucius looked at him oddly.

"Please!" she shouted once more. She felt as if she were wearing a choker comprised entirely of hot coals.

"Enough, Draco," Lucius said.

"Enough, _what_?"

"I said, _enough_. Do not play games with me, Draco! She'll be no fun if she's unconscious!"

Draco gawked at his father. "But I'm not—"

Whatever Draco was about to say, Hermione never managed to hear it. At that moment she felt someone wrap an arm around her waste and pull her backward against him. The last things she saw were the stunned looks on Draco's and Lucius' faces as they faded away into the darkness.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing on the front step of number 12 Grimmauld Place, her captor still holding onto her waist tightly from behind. Almost instantly the door sprung open, and the person behind her guided her inside the building.

The moment the door shut behind her, she wrenched free of the person's grasp, turning around to face him.

"Severus," she breathed.

"Get upstairs," he said quickly. "Lock the door. I will follow once I have ascertained that we are alone."

"But I don't—"

"_Now_, Hermione."

It wasn't a request, nor was he yelling at her. There was great importance behind his words, and she reluctantly complied.

Minutes passed with the speed of hours. She kept her ear pressed against the door in the hopes of hearing what was taking place inside the house around her. The lack of noise was worse than any sounds she could imagine, and eventually she sunk onto the bed, waiting in silent tension.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened.

"I have to go back," he said urgently. "Do not leave this house. I have put wards up so that no one will be able to get in."

"What? What if the someone in the Order—"

"The Order has been alerted, but I cannot be sure who among them can be trusted. I will return later."

He made to exit the room and she jumped off the bed, springing forward to grab hold of his sleeve.

"Please." she pleaded. "Please don't go. What's going on? Why can't you tell me?"

He stared down at her impassively.

"Don't look at me like that," she shouted, his robes still tangled in her enclosed fist. "I want to know what's going on."

Tears began streaking swiftly down her cheeks as her emotions overtook her. To her annoyance, his look did not change.

"Severus!" she yelled, releasing his sleeve. "I'm scared _shitless_ and you're leaving me in the dark! I deserve to know what's going on!" She took a step back from him, her breath coming in gasps now. "You're just going to _leave me_ here! No word in three days and—"

He glided forward and took her in his arms, cradling her head to his chest. He waited patiently while she sobbed on his shoulder, stroking her head lightly, comforting her.

When she had calmed down, he slackened his grip on her and leaned back so that he could look down into her eyes.

"Hermione," he said softly, "I have to return to the others. I will be back for you tonight. I promise."

She sniffed.

"Trust me," he whispered.

She nodded, and he stepped back gently, stroking her hair one more time before turning to leave. He paused at the door as if he wished to say more, but the words never came. He stepped forward and shut her in behind him.

She waited until she heard the soft click of the front locks that signaled his departure from the building then laid her head on her pillow and fell into darkness once more.

A loud crash from the first floor of the house woke her abruptly in the late hours of the night.

She retrieved her wand off the nightstand and crept to the door, opening it cautiously. Another crash from below startled her, and she tip-toed her way downstairs toward the kitchen and the source of the noise.

"Severus," she yelped when she saw him lying on his back on the tarnished marble floor. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

She bent down to assess his condition and pulled back abruptly. He _reeked_ of alcohol.

"Severus, are you drunk?"

He laughed at her and pulled himself up off of the floor, walking unsteadily toward the arch that led to the hallway.

She followed him cautiously down the corridor and stepped forward to allow him to lean against her as the two of them ascended the stairs in unison. When they reached the bedroom, he nearly crashed onto the cloth duvet, and she stared down at him disapprovingly.

"Where have you been?" she asked quietly.

"Drinking," he answered.

She glared at him, eventually rolling her eyes. "Obviously."

His proceeding laughter only helped to increase her anger, and she left the room, returning moments later with a blue vile held precariously in her left hand.

"Drink," she ordered.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he answered, "that is a sobering draught, and I do not wish to be sober."

"Well too God damn bad!" she shouted, causing him to look at her with something akin to shock. "I need to speak to you, and I want you sober while I do it. _Drink_."

He glared at her. "I do not take orders from _anyone_."

"Fine," she replied calmly. "Please drink this so that I may speak to you fairly."

He seemed to consider her for a moment before reaching out a hand and taking the bottle from her. He downed it in one gulp.

"The others?" she asked when he had placed the empty container on the nightstand beside him.

"Fine," he answered, not looking at her. "They are all back at the castle. Minerva's put up new wards. They will not hold against a full attack, but they will suffice for the time being."

"And you?"

"What about me?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," he answered, averting his eyes once more. "I did not participate in the fight. I spoke with Minerva afterward, but I was called away..."

"You were summoned?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "They were celebrating. They have found a way into the castle, though the Dark Lord will not reveal the passage to any but the one who found it for him."

"What are we going to do about it?"

His eyes snapped up to hers. "There is nothing to be done."

She scrutinized him closely. "Severus, what aren't you telling me?"

"I have to go," he said, rising from the bed.

"You'll do no such thing," she proclaimed. "What aren't you telling me?"

He walked past her and stood facing the wall in the corner of the room. "Do you not understand the magnitude of what has happened tonight?"

She shook her head, though she was sure he could not see her movements from his angle.

"The Dark Lord has found a way onto the grounds of which we are not ourselves aware. He has managed to put the Imperius Curse on a member of the Order—one who is quite close with Mr. Potter. He has gotten too close, Hermione. There _will_ be a final battle…soon."

He moved from his position in the corner of the room and turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked in a panicked tone.

"Hogwarts."

"Without me?"

"Yes."

"Severus!" she shouted when he was halfway through the open door. He paused. "Don't go. You said it's over. Everyone is safe for now."

He turned around and looked her fully in the eyes.

"What do you want from me, Hermione?" he asked in a strangled voice. "What is it you think I can give you?"

She shook her head in frustration. "I don't want you to give me anything. I just want you to stay here with me…please, Severus."

"No," he said firmly.

"Why?"

"I must leave," he said, turning toward the door.

"Stop!" she yelled, pointing her wand at his back. How he knew what she was doing without turning to look at her, she had no idea.

"Put it down, Hermione," he said in an exasperated voice.

"_No._"

"Hermione, you are not going to hex me."

"Try me."

He sighed, his shoulders sinking, and turned around.

"Hermione—"

"No," she interrupted. "I have questions and you are going to answer them. I want to know why you treated me like _shit_ the other day. I want to know why you are pushing me away. I want to know how you really feel about me—"

"I feel nothing," he said calmly.

"I don't believe you, Severus," she replied hollowly. "You're just saying that because you are trying to protect me—but you're not protecting me. Look at yourself," she gestured at him. "You live your life for everyone else, doing nothing for yourself. You have spent your entire life acting the puppet. Can't you see that?"

He remained silent, and she felt her face grow hot. "I've just poured my heart out to you, and you're lying to me—"

"So what if I am!"

She stilled, stunned. "You—"

"Do not mock me," he snapped. "You are not stupid, Hermione. You must realize that everything I have done is for your own good!"

"My own good? My _own good_! I've been crying for days, thinking that you couldn't give a flying fuck about me, and you're telling me that your leaving without saying a word is for _my own good_?"

"Hermio—"

"No!" she shouted. "Just shut up. I am an adult, Severus. I am quite capable of making my own decisions, and I have _decided_ that I _want you_!"

"Well you can not have me!"

"Why!"

He looked as if he would like nothing more than to ring her neck with his bare hands. His eyes were ablaze with a fury that he usually reserved for first-year Potions students and Neville Longbottom. He clenched his fists tightly and she inched backward, not entirely frightened, but nervous, nonetheless.

He glided toward her so quickly that she had barely seen him move at all. He grabbed her by the shoulders so tightly she was sure she would have bruises. And, then, he kissed her.

He lowered his head quickly, his lips descending upon hers with a ferocity that made her swoon and jump at the same time. His fingers tangled in her hair and she melted against him, his left arm wrapped around her waist the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor. He made to pull back and she leant forward in protest, entwining her fingers behind his back and pulling him towards her. Her efforts were unnecessary. He removed his right hand from her hair and joined it with his left at base of her waist. He lifted her up easily and walked her backwards to the bed, laying her gently upon the duvet.

She struggled to catch her breath as he stood over her, raking her body with his eyes. He placed one knee on the bed and bent to kiss her again, only this time his mouth grazed her neck instead of her lips. Her skin was on fire everywhere he touched, sending shivers down her spine and abdomen.

"Tonight," he whispered against her skin. "Only for tonight…"

She groaned something in response, his fingers playing delightful tricks against the fine hairs on her upper arm.

He moved his lips back to her neck, suckling gently on the skin at her jaw line. She moaned her approval, and his hand snaked up her leg, resting on her hip.

Frustrated, she wriggled her arms out from under him and began undoing the dozens of buttons that fastened his cloak, his mouth covering hers in the process.

Halfway through her unbuttoning of his outer robe, she sighed into his mouth, asking, "Are all these buttons really necessary?"

He smiled against her lips, saying nothing.

When the robe was finally undone, she pulled away from his kiss, her eyes resting on his chest.

To her great annoyance, she discovered that he was wearing a double-breasted oxford, buttons galore.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, her eyes moving from the shirt to gawk at him.

He smirked, his hand moving to rest on her waist as he pressed his lips more firmly against hers, her lids slipping shut at the dual sensations.

When she opened her eyes once more, his shirt was completely undone and draped loosely from his body. Instead of removing his hanging shirt and robe or starting on hers, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, biting gently when she ran her fingernails teasingly up his back.

Her hand tightened around the woolen material of his cloak, enclosing it in her fist. Opening her mouth in invitation, she delved out to taste him, moaning softly when he mirrored her gesture.

She released her grip on him, placing her hands on his shoulders and shedding both his shirt and cloak in one swift movement. He leaned backward, shrugging the offending garments off of his wrists and tossing them to the floor beside the bed.

Reaching up a hand to cup him round the back of his neck, she pulled him to her, latching onto his neck with her lips and taking small nibbles at the sensitive skin. Something between a groan and a growl emitted from his throat, and he leaned back, reaching out his hands and pushing her gently to the mattress.

Her heart was beating rapidly, and she bit her bottom lip, raking his chest with her eyes. When she looked up once again, he was staring resolutely at her face, his gaze so piercing that her breath hitched in her throat.

Suddenly he was upon her, devouring her skin with his lips. His tongue moved to trace the line of her jaw, stopping at her ear to suckle and nip at the lobe.

His warm breath against her wet skin caused her to shiver, and an urgent ache began building at the peak between her legs.

She reached out instinctively to cup his groin and he whipped he head back, his face an unreadable block of stone.

He extracted his wand from his waistband and aimed it at her chest, her eyes widening in surprise. Smirking, he drew an invisible line down the front of her shirt, and she immediately felt air upon her now bare skin.

She glanced down at her torso, her brow rising when she saw he had managed to undo her shirt with one slick wave of his wand, leaving every button in tact.

She looked up at him in awe.

"Smooth," she commented, impressed.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Naturally."

She squirmed out of her shirt and tossed it by the way of Snape's, rolling back just in time for him to latch onto her collarbone erotically.

Impatiently, she reached forward and undid his belt, intending on removing the buttons beneath it. Snape's hands moved to cover hers, his tongue still drawing delightful circles against the skin at the hollow of her neck.

"Not yet," he whispered, one hand delving below her back and between her shoulder blades, lifting her slightly up off the mattress.

His other hand moved below the first to undo the clasp of her bra, and she gasped at the cool sensation of air moving freely over her newly uncovered nipples.

He managed to slide her undergarment effortlessly off both arms, proceeding to tease the newly-revealed, hardened peaks with the point of his tongue.

She had had enough teasing for one night, and reached out again to undo the buttons of his trousers. When his hands covered hers once more, she reached a hand up to the nape of his neck, drawing him close to her so that her lips rested beside his ear.

"Now, Severus," she whispered encouragingly. "I don't want to play. I want you now."

His nose tickled the side of her neck as he leaned into her, inhaling deeply. His brought his wand arm over his head and spoke into her ear with a throaty voice.

"As you wish. _Nox._"

All torches in the room flickered out, leaving the moonlight streaming in from the window as their only source of light.

Hermione looked up at Snape's face, a brilliant silhouette against the reflective crescent illumination.

She opened her mouth, managing to croak out a quick, "Are you sure—" before she realized he had just uttered the exact same thing.

She smiled, undoing the button of her low-rise jeans and sliding them over her hips, down her legs and off her ankles. He mirrored her movements as she went, neither one taking their eyes off of the other.

She reached out boldly, tucking her middle and index finger behind the waistband of his black cotton boxers and running them slowly from one side of his waist to the other. She placed one hand on either side of the garment, tugging on them gently. His hands came to cup hers, and together they slid the soft barrier down to his knees, at which time he used his legs to finish their removal with three slow, measured kicks.

When he moved his hands to her waist—hooking both pinky fingers into the strings on the sides of her panties—she copied his motions, cupping his hands with hers and removing the undergarment in unison.

He lowered himself on top of her, brushing a stray lock of hair off of her forehead and kissing her gently.

"If I forget to tell you once this is over," he said softly, his breath tickling her nose as she looked into his eyes, "I cherished every moment of this experience."

In her heart she knew that there were a million responses to that statement, and she wanted to voice each and every one of them. Instead, she smiled, brushing his arm lightly and moving her right leg to the side, choosing simply to remember the moment as it was.

He bent down and kissed her firmly on the lips, nudging her other leg to the left and resting at her entrance. In one swift movement he entered her, and she exhaled roughly, pushing herself against him.

The rhythm with which they moved was smooth and effortless at first, quickly changing to one of urgent, primal need.

All of her worries—all of her fears and doubts and concerns—were forgotten in this one, perfect juncture. She ground against his pelvic bone, relishing in the sparks that shot through her body as his coarse hairs rubbed forcefully against her swollen nub.

She felt her toes curl under of their own accord as her orgasm came to a peak, and she dug her fingers into his sides, vaguely wondering if they would leave a mark.

He cupped the base of her skull in his hand, her fingers threading through her unruly curls. Lifting her head slightly, he said to her in a raspy voice, "Look at me."

Her eyes sprung open just as she felt her knees begin to quake, her lids begging to seal themselves in order to give way to the stars behind her eyes.

Whatever escaped her mouth at that moment sounded foreign to even her own ears, and she shook uncontrollably as she lost herself in her climax and the piercing gaze of his obsidian eyes.

He slowed his pace as she regressed from her spasms, bringing her down to earth and back into the moment.

Breathing heavily, she steadily rebuilt their momentum, sweat beading down the back of her neck and causing her to shiver intermittently.

His eyes squeezed as he threw his head back, his teeth set in a rigid line. His movements were becoming more and more erratic now, and she watched on in fascination as he reached his own climax.

His thumb moved to her sex, surprising her, and he began rubbing fervent, steady circles around her clit, urging her to come once more.

Unable to resist the sensations, she moved in stride with his ministrations, her hand snaking around to his back and resting heavily against his slick skin.

Again she felt her thighs turn rigid, her toes grabbing at the comforter as if it would disappear should they relax.

As the vibrations in her legs reached the ache in her abdomen, she cried out in ecstasy, raking her nails down his back and over his spine.

He let out an almost painful-sounding groan, driving into her one last time before his torso stiffened and his face contorted with a look that belonged somewhere along the spectrum between agony and bliss.

His breathing ragged, he collapsed beside her, throwing his arm around her waist and pulling him towards him.

Apparently in better control of her faculties than he, she grabbed her wand from the stand beside the bed and magicked the covers out from under their bodies, replacing them atop their collective forms.

She rolled onto her side, allowing Severus to gently stroke her skin with his fingertips, lulling her to sleep.

"Will you be here when I wake?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Promise me," she said—her voice little more than a whisper.

He moved his hand to brush the hair off of her neck, leaning forward and whispering into her ear, "I promise. Sleep, Hermione."

Contented—if only for tonight—she drifted off into the world of dreams—leaving the matters of the following day to their proper place in time.


End file.
